Wolf among Wolves
by heavybreathingcat
Summary: After His closest allies burnt him with the mark of the vault, Tim swore vengeance. However, five years of servitude to Jack would drown out the good in any man; Timothy Lawrence was no exception. As Tim become Jack, his plan for vengeance goes forgotten. Only, when he finally has the chance to take what Jack valued most, his Siren, does he act. But that plan isn't going to last.
1. Chapter 1 - The Searing

Sharp iron fingers were grinding at his windpipe as black spots danced in front of his eyes. Both his arms were free to rake at the metal hands which were fixed upon his throat; little good it did. Flesh fighting against metal was a futile escape plan. Timothy's chest spasmed again as he attempted to draw breath, but Wilhelm's grasp did not falter.

"Calm down, I needed him relaxed not lookin blue like Tassiter's balls"

Wilhelm's armored fingers relaxed only to shift and fixate on his shoulders. His metal thumbs dug deep into his spine assuring Timothy was pinned to his knees.

Timothy's chest jarred in agony as he drove his muscles to draw in air. Bile stirred in his stomach and his head span as the air finally reached his lungs. Even if he were to collapse, Wilhelm's grip would keep him from falling.

"Sir, If this… is really necessary, then I should be the one to do this if you miss or-"

The words of some cowardly fool spoke over Timothy's rasped breathing. He was certain if he moved in the slightest the exertion would cause him to faint. So his head remained bowed and the speaker's identity continued to be unknown.

"I'm paying you to keep him alive doc and to keep your thoughts to yourself, alright?" Jack barked.

Timothy clenched his eyes shut as Jack's sharp words pierced his ears, he'd forgotten how close the madman was to him. He reopened his eyes to study the brown canvas striped shoes kneeling before him. They were far too casual for any CEO, yellow stripes decorated the sides and thick laces made them appropriate for a teenager. A far gentler hand than he expected lifted his chin up, and Timothy's dry eyes found their way onto Jack's masked face. Not long earlier Timothy had been wearing an exact copy of the same discoloured synthetic flesh. Jack had commanded it be removed and Wilhelm did the honours, with one swift and violent tug the mask had been ripped from the bone. Blood had trickled from the metal clips embed on his angular face, it had long dried now as Jack's office was uncomfortably hot.

A carved gold fireplace seethed on the side of Timothy's vision. The embellished mantelpiece and flickering flames could've been a romantic sight if not for the violence which regular occurred on the floor. Yellow banners with Jack's portrait decorated the walls and black marble busts ran the length of the room. Jack's office was decorated in every way possible to satisfy a man who needed his ego stroked.

"Now you know why I've gotta do this champ?" Jack softly questioned him.

Timothy didn't bother to answer, even if he could speak, Jack was proficient at rhetorical questions and feigning sincerity. Timothy's answer would've fallen on deaf ears.

"I mean, you just haven't been up to scratch? Holding out on the New Haven job, you didn't even get one kill and let's not forget how you failed to bring the red headed bitch in." Jack slapped an enthusiastic hand onto his shoulder, "and then you failed to recapture Roland's psycho little brat? Kiddo the list goes on, what's been happening?"

Timothy kept his head bowed and jaw clenched to bite down a retort. He'd been taking advantage of every opportunity to sabotage Jack's plans, even if it were in the slightest of ways. It started out as some comical act of defiance, Timothy stocked all of the Hyperion vending machines with Jack's least favourite snacks. Slowly but surely Timothy found his courage and increased the antics in his rebellion. He'd conveniently got 'knocked out' on the assault of New Haven so that no blood was spilled on his account. His bravest move to date was letting the little explosive blonde girl get away from a group of bounty hunters he was leading.

Timothy's mistakes were calculated so the blame always fell on someone else. His guilt from seeing others thrown out of airlocks for his mistakes was justified by his survival. The programer struggling with debt may be long gone, but at least he didn't relish in the capture and murder of children.

And now, Jack was foolishly blaming him for all these shortcomings because he wasn't 'Jack enough'.

 _What an idiot._

His jaw was snapped shut to prevent himself from smirking at his counterpart.

"Claptraps were more Jack than you!" Immediately Jack waved a hand in front of him to dismiss his previous statement. "No wait, I take that back, but you get my point."

Timothy's eyes remained fixed studying the dark geometric slabs under his knees.

"Well, anyway I got thinking…" Jack pushed himself up off the floor.

"You just haven't lived as Jack! If you're going to be a badass Jack, you've got to have the good part of Jack and the bad."

Timothy's vision - still spotted - jerked up, his bicoloured eyes were now glued to Jack's. His employer took a few long strides over to his equally corrupted female counterpart. Timothy hadn't forgotten about her, how could he. Nisha's hat adorning silhouette stood against the fireplace, a large modified branding iron was being twirled by her in amongst the flames.

"And trust me, you've had plenty of the good. The women, the money, a damn fine house and constant supply of arsenal, what else could you get from life?" Jack's tone was packed with glee.

Timothy was not one to celebrate the life Jack had "given" him. The man had taken away so much. Airlocking allies into space, no wait...the destruction of Felicity, that should've been when he left Jack's services. A contract (that may as well last a lifetime) bound him to Jack and a fried brain awaited him if he disobeyed.

"Fffark errhnnyoohhhuu" Timothy's words were rasped and pathetic. His windpipe could collapse from the slightest outburst. He wanted to scream at the madman, at all of them. However, even that muffled curse had seared his throat and weakened his spirit.

Jack looked back over his shoulder to shrug of his failed insult, "Yeah, yeah kid, get it all out of your system. You know cursing is good for pain? Yeah, they did a study on it all and everything" Jack rambled on.

Jack collected a pair of thick decorative oven gloves from his desk and Timothy's heart quickened with every finger Jack shoved into place.

"Anyway, let's get to it." Jack rubbed the large mittens together, out of context the scene would've been a comical sight.

Nisha sauntered over to Jack, iron rod in hand. She whispered something to him with a smile that only an insane man like Jack could appreciate. He took a firm hand around her waist before sliding the iron out of her grasp.

Jack held the iron up and gave it a quick twirl, a curved white hot 'V' adored the end of it.

"Once you know what I had to go through, what those damn bandit Vault Hunters did to me! You'll see."

Jack paced back over to him, the glow from the iron left a trail which was grafted into Timothy's vision.

"Please…I can be better…" Timothy rasped his plea whilst struggling one last time to free himself from Wilhems grasp.

"After this, you won't hesitate to take those bandits down even again….It's for your own good kiddo."

"Pleas-"

Jack spoke over him, "What's the point of wearing the mask if you don't understand why I've got wear it" Jack scolded as his eyes narrowed.

Part of him wanted to spit more curses at Jack, but his teeth were clenched and jaw tight. He was too focused on anticipating the incoming agony. The heat from the iron rod was already drawing sweat on his brow.

"Make sure he doesn't move, I really don't want to mess this up" Jack scoffed.

Wilhelm's grip moved towards Timothy's neck and his metal hands dug into his jawline. His head was locked in place while the white iron rod danced inches from his unmasked face.

"1, 2 and -"

Jack never finished his countdown.

The molten iron was already deep in Timothy's face. The iron brand scorched past his flesh and burned deeper than he could imagine. He tried to screamed but Wilhelm kept his jaw clenched shut and dug his face further into the searing metal. Jack held the rod firmly in place for far longer than needed; only bone would remain.

Satisfied with the damage Jack peeled the rod away, taking part of Timothy's face with it.

Timothy let out the scream which he'd been prevented from venting. He roared in agony as his face continued to burn, charred pieces of flesh fell into his lap. Timothy wasn't aware Wilhelm had released him, but the giant must have, as he now leaned forward on the floor. His face inches from the ground, but unable to rest. Any contact would be too much, this is already too much. He could feel the heat radiating from his face, sweat and blood pooled in his hands which hovered in front of him.

Timothy's chest gave him further grief as he choked on the blood which had found its way into his lungs. He'd taken out a chunk of his tongue and was now choking on his own goddamn blood. His hands hovered over his face in desperation. He wanted to grasp it and take the pain away.

"See! That's what they did to me" Jack gushed with a venomous tone. "Now do you understand?"

Timothy fell forward onto his shoulder, body limp as he collapsed to the floor.

"I...yes...I understand…" the words rasped between his cries. His tears trickled from one eye, the other, his green one was seared shut. Jack was capable of far greater and intimate violence than he first thought; this is what he understood.

"Alrighty then!" Timothy heard Jack clasp his hands together, "You're up Doc, get him looking beautiful again… and be careful with him, a solid investment that one."

Wilhelm's cold arms lifted him up with ease and Timothy landed onto a cushioned surface. His eyes were firmly shut yet his mouth gaped open as the blood poured onto the pillow below him.

 _Damn them all._

The pain was agony, his palms were raw from where his nails had dug into them, pain elsewhere was pain away from the mess the Jack left on his face. He was two years into a lifetime of servitude and for the second time, his face had been altered to reflect his employer. Jack wanted Timothy Lawrence to be 'more Jack', a better killer, a more capable hunter, and a devious deceptor. If Jack wanted this, then he'll get it.

The doctor wheeled the stretcher bed down the hall, the yellow banners of Jack's face trailing behind them.

 _No more Timothy...no...just Jack Lawrence now._

He will be everything Jack wanted and more, and then, in time he'll be ready to take away everything the goddamn monster held dear. Lawrence's hands were still delicately hovering over what was left of his altered face, heat burning of it. He could already feel his bloodied jaw sticking into the pillow beneath him. If there was one thing Jack loved more than himself and Vaults, it was his precious Siren. Yes, Lawrence knew about her, months earlier Jack had slipped up and implied her existence.

The plan now?

Find her and when he was ready he was going to take her out.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

I wanted to read a story where Timothy Lawrence become a surrogate Dad to Angel, I couldn't find one so I decided to write one my self. This is the first story that's being written on my own so 'enjoy' (and critique) the amateur writing, hoping I can get better along the way :)

I'm going to keep this story short and fast as I, unfortunately, don't have a good attention span for long stories (love to read them, just can't write them). I don't want to leave this as an unfinished work so going to jump right into it.

Focusing on my fave movie/game troupe: Sad murder dad.

A03 Version is you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	2. Chapter 2 - Come get Her

The details were vivid and dreams like this were prone to linger. The memory of burning pain echoed across his face as his mind heaved him back to reality.

Lawrence didn't jolt awake anymore nor did his heart beat irregularly in fear. No, this dream, or memory was far too frequent for it to cause him further grief. The burns had healed years ago, yet the scars were thick and contorted his face when he showed an ounce of emotion. He stretched out his jaw and twisted his neck to free himself from the stiffness Jack's handi-work induced.

Lawrence leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he drew himself up in bed. His long bronze hands ran over his angular face, tracing the metal clips outlining his jawline and brow. Jack would slit a poor man's throat if he knew he'd stopped wearing the mask.

As promised, in exchange for his devoted servitude Lawrence had been gifted another 'home.' It would've been the envy of every employee on Helios and bandit on Pandora if any of them knew it existed. Lawrence shifted to the far side of the king bed, the percale sheets sliding over him as he moved onto the cool, smooth floor. As large and as generous as his home was, he didn't get a say in the decor. As a result, everything was oversized, polished or marbled and all in black; it reeked of Jack's ego.

Lawrence's long legs paced over to the plush rug in front of the dresser, the numbness in his feet slowly departed as he reached softer and warmer ground.

His pale mask laid disregarded upon yesterday's clothes, amongst what few possessions he had. A few pieces of Eridium, his digi-struct watch, a custom holster, his cloaking device and a small journal.

Lawrence inspected himself in the mirror, repeatedly tracing his hands over his jawline. Cold yet bright bi-coloured eyes frowned back at him. He'd lost his eye, his own eye when Jack scorched his face with the mark of the Vault. It had been the one part of him which hadn't gone under the knife. Timothy Lawrence was born with green eyes, so only one had to be altered to resemble Handsome Jack's heterochromia. Now it was gone, charred, and replaced with a cybernetic implant. He rubbed his brow feeling the metal grind under his skin, how much of 'him' remained? He did not know.

For over five years he'd wake to the same strange face, and every time it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Deciding to forgo breakfast, Lawrence threw on yesterday's clothes. He was out West, and a clean outfit wasn't necessary when bandits were trying to take your head off. He ran a bony hand through his mousey-brown hair in an attempt to formally shape it. Grey lingered on the edges of his sideburns; Jack would notice in a glance and demand it be dyed (again).

Except for a few morning echo-comm calls, there were no face-to-face meetings with Jack. Lawrence was stationed in Thousand Cuts as his new job required him to keep track of the defenses for The Bunker and more importantly what lay beneath the fortress.

Lawrence clipped the mask in place and rubbed the synthetic flesh against his face to smooth it out. He was expecting a call from Jack today; otherwise, the mask would remain discarded on the dresser. With the mask on; expressing any emotion was a tough act to pull off, Jack made it look so effortless.

However, a mask was a handy solution to hide his contempt for his employer and close allies.

He shoved his arms through the holes of his brown leather holster, adjusting it, so it sat comfortably on his shoulders. Digitising a gun from his gear-chip was easy enough. However, Lawrence liked things the old fashion way. It felt more 'right' to him to be physically armed at all times, plus who didn't appreciate the aesthetic?

He opted for leather combat boots, not those thin canvas sneakers his boss still wore. His face skimmed his grey shirt as he pulled overhead, Hyperon yellow stripes paneled down the side. Finally, black military pants, he looked as casual as Jack allowed him to be. He needed gear to fight if the scenario suddenly arose, not resemble a playboy billionaire.

However, today's task was programming, so chances of combat were slim.

He was halfway through coding an update for the torrents outside, their accuracy and reaction time needed to be vastly improved. Like Jack, he was a programmer, although he wasn't as brilliant as his counterpart Lawrence did know enough Hyperphire to be a lead developer.

Lawrence strode over to push the paneled doors of his loft outward to reveal a sunlit balcony. Pandora's sun was a stark contrast to the darkness of Helios. The sun would've felt warm, and he was sure there was an actual breeze; however, he was staring at a massive digital screen capturing the filmed view outside. Sunlamps and a small fan simulated the weather, and it was a pretty darn close imitation. Having actual windows on a fortress would've been seen as a slight oversight.

Lawrence's workstation was within his new 'home,' as well as a gym, spa, a massive open plan bedroom that adjoined the living area and kitchen. Walls were apparently an afterthought.

His workstation was a large curved desk with two monitors overlooking the sharp terrain of the (simulated) Highlands. The best part? He was the sole employee inside The Bunker's defenses, and his loft was stationed right above the Siren's chamber. He was alone, away from Jack and right where he wanted to be.

He knocked a few keys to wake up the computer from its slumber, last night's work was still open on the desktop. No login required, his lax in security was another one of his small acts of defiance. He dismissed the text editor and opened up the surveillance camera. With a quick browse, he was satisfied that everything was in order. The cameras gave him a full view of every corridor, ledge, balcony, and port of entry around and into The Bunker. His only blindspot was the observation deck and the Sirens chamber, only the real Jack had access to those areas.

Lawrence's first heard mention of a Siren when Jack was arguing with some glassy-eyed fool of a scientist (before Jack ejected the man into space). The doomed man had explained the Vault needed a charged key, a catalyst, 'perhaps a Siren?'

Finding a Siren was no easy task, as he later found out there were only ever 6 in the whole damn universe at any given time. Jack seethed at this news and had taken it upon himself to destroy the only framed picture on his desk along with his chair, a golden arm, his computer, a dozen books, the scientist neck and the finally the desk itself.

Lawrence mused at Jacks fits of rage and the lack of clarity they held.

After running feverish hands through his matted hair, Jack ordered Lawrence to find him a Siren. However, before Lawrence could excuse himself from the broken office, Jack had told him to disregard that order.

So Lawrence built a theory, if Jack didn't want to pursue a Siren then maybe he already had one? Or knew of one close by? His theory would later be proven correct.

Lawrence's rubbed his eyes, trying to remove last night's weariness. A crooked smile stretched across his face as he prepared his morning brew. Lawrence - and not Jack - was expecting the Vault Hunters to raid the Bunker any day now. Jack had too much pride to realise everything was compromised. The Vault Hunters had the other doppelganger's cloaking device, and it wouldn't be long before they drove through their defenses, even with his new security adjustments.

He did not doubt the Vault Hunters success he even welcomed it. It had been a long steady wait for Lawrence, full of violence and disdain. Yet, he was so close.

He still marveled at himself for gaining the madman's trust. So much so, that minor disobediences from Lawrence went unnoticed, or if it didn't, it went unpunished.

After the searing, Lawrence had become the best Jack he could be, kill count to show for it. A corrosive sniper was now his weapon of choice. He liked to stay out of the chaos that warfare on Pandora always brought, although that was a choice rarely given to him.

His most celebrated exploit so far was getting Nisha on his side. The two of them had scores of successful missions under their belts. Their success and Lawrence's apparently new appreciation for violence had stirred something new in Nisha. Lawrence flexed his hands. He knew damn well that Nisha got off on blood, chaos, and Jack.

Lawrence added enough sugar to his coffee to satisfy a child's appetite and stirred in milk until it was a light beige. Jack had his coffee black; if Lawrence were expected to follow suit, then he'd rethink his contract.

So, how do you get a madman's trust? Be madder than him, kill more than him, torture more and manipulate more. He had moments of doubt, where Lawrence thought if he stopped now maybe he could go back to being Timothy. But the moments were fleeting. It wasn't rational to think like that. He couldn't just call it quits and become a house husband.

Lawrence looked up to follow the flight path or a couple of (simulated) Rakk's overhead their large wingspans drifted in the sky. A deafening screech fell across the valley as one of them dove down, probably onto some poor sod below.

Now that he'd had become 'tight' with Jack, as the masked man had described them, or 'more Jack than he could hope for' he'd been granted access to Jack's Siren. She was quite literally below him, working her magic through Hyperion's interfaces. Lawrence had one set back; Jack forbid spoken conversation with the Siren or any face-to-face contact. Except for general 'chit chat' through the Hyperion Network, an allowance to make sure she got everything she needed.

'Make sure she's happy, see that she gets everything she wants,' those were Jack's parting words to him when he left Helios to move to the Bunker. Jack's words were idiotic, make her happy? Impossible, the darn Siren was permanently locked away. As for talking with her, he never knew what to say beyond 'Hi, need anything?'

If the Siren tried to open up or pry anything personal from him, he'd immediately log off. Getting intimate with her wouldn't help his cause. It wasn't like he could talk openly with her, 'Hi, how does it feel to work for the universe's greatest decrepit piece of shit?'. That, would not go down well with his employer, Jack was undoubtedly observing all conversations between them.

Lawrence made himself comfortable at his desk, legs propped up on a second leather chair with his coffee in hand. On queue, the chat interface opened up.

'Good morning, are you enjoying the sunshine? - Angel' The text digitized across the screen.

'Yes, is there anything you need? - Anonymous'

He tried to keep his responses concise; he didn't dare run the risk of giving anything personal away. As far as the Siren knew he was no more than a Hyperion security programmer in charge of her safety. He couldn't leave any hints or traces in their conversations for Jack to doubt him.

'No, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she replied, a moment of pause before she continued, 'Jack is certain the defenses for the BNK3R will hold. What do you think?'

Lawrence's brow raised and his hands hovered over the keys as he carefully considered his reply. These questions aimed to pry into his views weren't uncommon, but they were becoming an increasing nuisance.

'They will hold' Lawrence typed back before closing the chat window.

There was one minor mystery that he'd like answered before departing from Jack's service. Why did the Siren agree to work for him? Was her family held hostage, or was she just as war hungry as Jack? The Siren had unleashed enough havoc on Pandora to match his and Jack's kill count.

There was nothing in the tone of her voice - or messages - that revealed the answers.

All he knew for sure was that she was Jack's cherished ally and so she had to go.

His echo-comm gave a shrill blare which snapped him out of his thoughts, Jack was calling. Lawrence leaned forward and accepted the call on the device, and the screen lit up with his exact copy sitting at his desk.

Jack got straight to the point.

"So good work on fast travel port update, but you know, if you're going to litter your work with comments explaining what you coded, you probably did a piss poor job at it."

Jack wasn't even looking at the echo-device receiver. Instead, he was typing away on another device.

"I mean, I should just be able to read this, yeah?" He exclaimed pointing a hand at another screen.

Lawrence mentally rolled his eyes. The way Jack talked you'd think he was a frat boy enjoying his first hand at blow.

"So...ahhh, fixed that for ya. Like all of it," Jack mocked.

Lawrence picked up a pretzel from the dish at his workstation and threw it at echo-comm hitting Jack's image on the screen.

"Cut that out Champ!" Jack ridiculed with no actual menace.

Who'd ever think that questioning stammering Timothy Lawrence could ever be forever-best-buddy-ol-pals with Handsome Jack? Well, the guy was easy to talk too. Wit, banter, and rarely any substance, it wasn't hard to get into his groove.

Lawrence downed the rest of his coffee before moving the conversation along, "Did you like the space-hurps part?"

"Oh that, that was brilliant!" Jack cheered as he leaned back and slapped a hand down on his lap.

Every Hyperion employee had enough vaccinations to start a new ecosystem in their lymph nodes. However, that didn't stop Zarpedon infecting half of Helios with it during the Elpis situation five years ago. Despite their best efforts, the virus made its way to Pandora. Hyperion eventually developed a vaccination. However, the only beneficiaries of that were Hyperion employees.

Lawrence's last update took advantage of that.

Fast travel points reconstructed the body, if it identified an illness, say space-hurps? Well, now only half of that person would be reaching their final destination. Who on Pandora was infested with every known disease to man? Bandits.

That was just another one of his own fucked up magical ideas that kept Jack happier than a maggot in a dead skag.

"Right, well I want the torrent update by the end of the day."

"Righteo" Lawrence reluctantly cocked a finger towards the screen, "I'll be done by midday, then I'm on patrol, gonna test out the new gear on the Brick head's encampment."

"Love it," Jack gave a curt nod and the echo-comm disconnected the call.

What an idiot, what a fucking psychotic idiot.

Lawrence switched off his echo-comm and leaned back into his chair. He reached for his coffee only to realise he'd already finished it. So he returned to watching Rakks circling some new prey. Any day now the sky would be filled with Buzzards, and the assault against the Bunker would be on. That was the day Lawrence yearned for, the Bunkers defenses would fail from the strength of the Vault Hunters, and that would be his chance.

He was going to kill Jacks Siren.

Come get her Vault Hunters.

* * *

 ****NOTES*****

* * *

So writing Timothy characterisation for this chapter was a tricky challenge. I've prevented the reader from seeing the 5 years of character development that would of have happened since we last saw him in game. Hopefully, I've communicated what he's been through and how he sees the world now.

I also believe its likely that Jack would station his double near Angel, the reasoning being as Timothy became more and more like Jack, Jack (in his egotistical way) would have trusted him more as he saw just another version of himself.

Also, SPACE-HURPS.

Happy to hear your thoughts on it, criticisms, comments are much appreciated :)

A03 Version, if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	3. Chapter 3 - Kill the Siren

"Dammit!" Jack cursed, his voice was strained and tinged with panic. A smile was stamped across Lawrence's unmasked features, it was a beautiful thing to hear Jack in disarray.

"The damn bandit fucking Vault Hunters have breached the security wall!" Jack's voice boomed through both Lawrence's echo-comm and the lofts intercom.

Lawrence figured as much, he'd woken to the sound of blaring alarms and a torrent of bullets. In a frantic mess he tripped from his bed as the sheets refused to let go of his ankles, red lights circled the room as he lifted himself off the floor. Lawrence grunted when he looked at the wall clock, which revealed a deplorable hour to be awake. His limbs hastily shoved their way into protective gear, as his eyes scoured the room for additional arsenal to attach to his belt and holster.

"The defenses will hold" Lawrence called out with a finger pressed on his echo-comm.

"They better, or I'll use your goddamn throat to paint the walls."

 _Good to know._

"Get to the observation deck, I'll clear you to enter" Jack commanded, his voice heavy with resentment.

All the comms went silent.

The observation deck and the Siren's chamber remained the only areas off limits to him. He'd previously toyed with the idea of hacking into both of them, although he knew it would've proven futile. Jack could recognize a breach in a heartbeat and the Siren had more than enough power to ensure he didn't take one step into her chamber.

But that didn't matter anymore, his remarkable ability for patience had finally rewarded him. The Vault hunters were coming to do the deed for him.

Lawrence held the last item of 'clothing' he needed to equip; the mask. His bronze hands turned the thin pale mask over, eyes studying the imperfections it had taken over the years. Light scratches adored the checks and a deeper cut was forged across the bridge of the nose. Jack's mask was surely a sight of perfection as the CEO hadn't been in a brawl for years.

This was it, this was the first day of the rest of his life not as Jack. In a rare moment of lost control, Lawrence threw the mask across the room and watched as its rubber features bounced off the wall. He paced over to his workstation, (giving the mask one last kick for old times sake) and woke his computer, only to be bombarded with hundreds of notifications plastered across the screen. With a few commands, they were all dismissed and replaced with the surveillance footage from outside his walls.

The Vault hunters were already face-to-face with the BNK3R, Jack's prized war-craft machine. Fully automated with six torrents and a laser for good measure, regardless of its assault capabilities, the war machine yielded few difficulties for the Vault Hunters. Lawrence observed as the blue hair Siren held a loader-bot captive, her tattooed arm a blaze in a fiery blue.

The other Vault Hunters worked on taking out his torrents, even with the new modifications he'd installed days ago, the large blonde in heavy combat gear gave a cheer as the last of them came down.

Lawrence didn't know how the Vault Hunters knew about the Vault key and its location, however, their recent activities were a pretty clear indicator of their intentions. He ran a hand over the back of his neck in an attempt to push out the stiffness in his neck. He had zero sympathies for the cloaked Jack doppelganger which Vault Hunters had previously dispensed from the world.

 _8 hours of facial reconstruction and some other Hyperion ass-hat got a cloaking device?_

Lawrence seethed with envy.

It didn't take the Vault Hunters long to destroy the BNK3R, their capability in battle could not be underestimated.

A new notification popped up on Lawrence's screen;

ACCESS GRANTED TO OBSERVATION DECK.

 _Observation deck only?_

Jack's paranoia prevailed, Lawrence had hoped he'd have access to the Siren. He supposed this would do, with the security protocol now overwritten it was time to see this rodeo head on.

He adjusted his hostler, which was more out of habit than necessary before he stalked to the exit of his loft. He took the steps three at a time to reach the hallway below. The observation deck did not fuck around, it was the largest iron cast door Lawrence had ever set eyes on. He moved into a light jog, eager to finally have access to the room beyond the reinforced door. A new, yet delicate husky voice spoke across the intercom, Lawrence was thrown to a halt.

"The Key is here…" A female voice spoke.

Was the Siren talking to the Vault hunters?

Lawrence's legs pumped from a jog into a sprint as the voice continued to chill the hallways.

"But...To truly stop Jack from waking the Warrior, you cannot just steal the Vault Key, you must destroy his catalyst."

A frown was hastily etched across his face. Why would the Siren reveal this to them? She was meant to protect Jacks Vault key and most of all, his secrets.

Lawrence shoved his hand over the scanner and practically knocked his forehead into the door to permit the second scanner to reach his retina. The door opened without dispute. The observation deck was a barren place, empty except for more intercoms, a few surveillance screens and a large dim window that ran the length of the room.

The siren spoke again.

"You must destroy...me."

"Wait, what?" Lawrence spoke aloud with alarm and confusion.

He launched himself towards the window, eyes wide as they spied on the woman below, no, the girl who hovered below. Large black appendages were connected to her back which ran along the length of the room, silver wings kept her afloat.

Lawrence stepped back from the window, hands clenched tight.

She was young, much younger than he'd ever anticipated, she was still a distance away so her features were not clear, but Lawrence could not mistake her light frame than that of a child's.

He unclenched his hands so he could trace them along the window, Lawrence's mind raced.

The Siren wanted the Vault Hunters here? Something twisted in his gut as he tried to process the situation. He'd been planning this assault for months, detailing any obstacles, the challenges he'd have to face, yet this? This was not what he had anticipated. The Siren had been doing Jacks work for years, probably even longer and now she suddenly wants to change allegiances?

He didn't understand.

"Jack's spent years pumping me full of Eridium, using me to charge his Key and manipulate his enemies." The Sirens words continued to haunt him.

Lawrence lent further against the window, his breath drawing up fog onto the fortified glass.

"Destroying the Eridium injectors that keep me... alive... will stop the Key from charging and it will end a lifetime of servitude. Now-"

She gave an echoing wail as she was yanked from the fingers of her room. The thick cords attached to her had bound her in a second chamber, a purple hue lofted in the air.

 _No, this was not meant to happen...Vault hunters break in, they steal the key, the Siren is encountered, I kill the Siren in amongst the chaos, I flee, and Jack loses._

Lawrence turned his back to the Siren as his hands ran through his hair feverishly only to jerk back around at Jacks enraged voice.

"You get the hell away from MY DAUGHTER!" Jack's voice boomed over the comm-speakers, his face livid on the surveillance screen in front of him.

Lawrence's brow was tight in confusion, "Daughter..."

"What the hell are you doing?! ANGEL?!" Jack roared at her defiance.

"Angel?...Daughter?!" Lawrence repeated the words to make sense of it all.

No, that wasn't possible, Jack didn't have a daughter, maybe a few affairs, two wives, but no daughter. Lawrence stumbled as if the ground had been ripped away from him. He thought he had Jack's trust, he thought Jack confided everything to him.

For five years Lawrence had found his courage to be, no...to act as Jack closest companion. He knew his schedules, his enemies, his preferences, his habits, and desires. The man had spilled his fears and dreams of Pandora to him and Lawrence had reluctantly yet patiently listened to him.

With Jack, Lawrence's world was calculated and planned but in this moment he felt vulnerable. What else hadn't Jack told him?

He turned his eyes away from the Siren, he couldn't bear to look at her. Lawrence let out a deep breath that sounded more like a whimper, why was this affecting his so much?

 _You just lived with the guy, Jack didn't need to to tell you everything._

His breathing turned sharp, no matter how much he heaved it felt like the air was bypassing his lungs completely.

 _You pretended to be Jack's friend. It wasn't real. It doesn't matter._

Dark spots began to circle his eyes.

Jack didn't have panic attacks and because of this Lawrence was not allowed to have them, yet here it was. He felt sick, repulsed and the worst part? He felt betrayed. His back leaned against the window as he slid to the ground, his knees curled upwards and his head rested in his hands.

The faceless conversations with the Siren, her dedication to Jack, and Jack's obsession with her wellbeing. Everything was starting to fall into place, but these answers didn't yield any security for him.

His Echo-comm lit up from Jack, "You get in there and goddamn save her! Dammit! when I get down there, If anything happens to her, ohhhh you don't want to know what I'll do to your corpse."

A few other loud threats of violence bellowed through the Echo-comm but Lawrence couldn't find the words to respond. Both his long hands were pulling at the side of his hairline, his options were limited and all of them ill-fated in.

His mission all along was to take the Siren out, she was meant to be a willing ally to Jack and not a child. Lawrence thumped a clenched fist onto the ground yet the impact did nothing to conquer his anger.

"Dammit! Fuck Vaults! Fuck Jack!" he cursed at his predicament. Lawrence hadn't committed years of violence to finally succumb to being a child murdering servant to a psychopath.

He threw the echo-comm into the screen which displayed Jack's livid face.

The Vault hunters would kill Lawrence on sight, they'd already taken out other doppelgangers and their hatred for Jack was as justified as his.

 _Do I hate him though?_

Yes, he had to hate Jack, he just had too, Lawrence reasoned with himself. Jack did this to him, burned his face, alienated him from his friends, was Athena and Janey even still alive? Jack was kind to Lawrence when he wanted him and harsh when he disappointed. Killing the Siren was meant to be the easier task than living with Handsome Jack.

 _And now I can't do it._

Another scream rang out, Lawrence jumped to his feet to glance through the window. The Vault Hunters had successfully destroyed another Eridium injector. Even if he could enter the chamber, the Vault hunters wouldn't give him a chance to explain himself before they filled his body with lead.

"Sweetheart, everything you could ever want is within these four walls! Angel, do you have any idea how much I've SACRIFICED FOR YOU?!" Jack's tactics turned as he pleaded with his daughter.

Jack's tone was familiar, desperate and trying to negotiate a way out. Jack had used that same tone with him when he'd so closely encountered death.

"The bandits I've killed, the people I've manipulated - everything I've done was to protect YOU!" Jack continued to plead.

A dark and twisted thought lurked at the back of his mind, I could just leave now in amongst the chaos, Lawrence reasoned with himself. Jack would still lose everything and I don't need to do a thing.

It was a plan he could act on, but the twisting feeling in his gut held him in place.

Lawrence had another plan to consider, a crude one, but it was still an option. There would be measures he'd have to take. The tightness in his stomach turned to bile, if he was going to pull this off then sacrifices would need to be made.

He was going to do it.

He threw back the iron door and ran through the observation deck exit with such force he crashed into the hallway. He had to get back to his loft; fast.

His long legs bounded up the last of the steps only halting to stop and scan his hand and eye. The red alarms were still dancing along the walls of his loft, he ran to the kitchen and flew open every cabinet he could reach.

A third injector had just been destroyed, as its destruction was followed by the scream of the Siren.

Dammit, it was only moments ago that he was planning on killing the Siren himself, but he didn't think he was capable of killing a child. However, he'd done a lot of things for Jack he didn't think he was capable of.

Lawrence found the health kits he was searching for. Sprinting to the sink he flushed the red fluid into his old coffee mug. He prayed it didn't expire quickly when exposed, he would surely need it later.

He had three empty syringes, next he needed...pliers and a torch. A dark thought crossed his mind as he contemplated retrieving the pliers, Lawrence felt his dinner bubble in his throat.

If he was going to 'save' her this was what he had to do.

He ripped his draws apart as he dug around for the equipment he needed. Surely Jack stocked this place with some damn torture equipment? Or a handyman kit at least…

Jack's voice was still booming through every device in the Bunker, "Angel, you can STOP this! I'll still forgive you, baby!"

Lawrence paced over to the computer, gear in hand. He cleared Jack's face away and re-opened the Siren surveillance screen (which he now finally had access too). Angel the Siren briefly hovered in the center of the room before she dropped to the ground. The Eridium injectors were all destroyed.

"Angel?! NO, ANGEL!" Jack cried.

Lawrence's eyes narrowed at the agony in Jack's voice.

Lawrence continued to watch the video feed, the three Vault Hunters returned to the Sirens side. Roland knelt beside her and declared she was dead. Lawrence waited for them to leave, they had the key, the Siren was dead.

 _Leave. Now._

Lawrence remained where he was and thankfully so as Jack had just digitised into the center of the room, standing tall, gun in hand. Jack fired and Roland fell forward, blood painted the faces of the other Vault Hunters.

The other Siren, Lilith screamed and charged forward, but Jack moved faster than even Lawrence could have anticipated. The Firehawk was incapacitated, Lawrence leaned further towards the screen. He couldn't make out the details, but Jack had latched something onto Lilith. She raised her arm, the surveillance feed was briefly consumed by static and purple before revealing the chamber again; the other Vault Hunters was gone.

Jack was no longer speaking over the comms, Lawrence watched as Jack hissed into Lilith's ear but Lawrence had no clue as to what. Jack reached for his pocket watch and the two them digitised away.

Lawrence leaned back from the desk, he let out the air he had unknowingly held captive.

So that's it, Jack gets a new Siren and just leaves his daughter in a pool of Eridium?

Not even the Vault Hunters checked her vitals, they said she was dead..but didn't anyone really check? They had taken one look at her.

He may still have time.

He shoved the empty health kits into his belt and the pliers and torch into his jacket pocket.

Lawrence waded through the dark to exit his loft, he ventured further down the hall than he'd ever been permitted to go.

This was as close he had been to the Siren's chamber, the ironclad entrance to the chamber, no prison, was bent out of shape. A grenade had bent the door inward allowing Lawrence to finally move beyond the threshold. He leaned down and shifted under the crumbled bent remains of the doorway, wires hung low and hissed electricity against his cheeks.

The screens surrounded the chamber had turned to static and a soft purple glow encased the room.

Jack had returned to Helios with his new Siren, Lawrence had double, no triple checked the Bunker for any human life on the base. Besides himself, there was none.

Lawrence sidestepped through the carnage in the room, a dozen loader-bots and even more torrents laid desicrated across the concrete. The only sound heard was the clinking emitting from the overheated metal.

Sparks dazzled the roof as wires were pulled apart and pools of Eridium had formed from the destroyed injectors. He swiftly turned his gaze away from the Eridium, unable to stomach the thought of the substance running through his own body. He continued to trek through the destruction, his objective insight.

The Siren's head was bowed as she leaned against the base of the enclosure. Her black hair was swept across her face, her body limp and fragile.

Lawrence knelt down beside the girl, gingerly he wrapped both arms around her so he could shift her onto the ground. The Siren laid on her back, hair floating on the surface of Eridium, her face pale and void of expression. Lawrence rested on both knees, Eridium soaked through his pants and he tried to press all thoughts of the substance away. He could already feel the tingly sensation as the element made contact with his skin. He took out the emptied health kit and slid it into the purple substance which surrounded them both.

Would this work? He thought so, she'd only been without the Eridium for no more than a few minutes and he of all people knew well the effects it had on the body.

After filling the health kit's chamber he flicked the needle to remove any air bubbles in a swift practiced motion. Where was he going to shove the damn thing? Her heart? An artery in her arm? Lawrence opted for the former. He lined the point of the needle above her heart and breastplate, dammit I better not miss, Lawrence took a few practice motions to accurately line the needle up.

"Ok...here we go"

Raising his arm high above him he drove the needle down through the girl's chest and delivered the Eridium to her heart.

She remained cold and motionless.

Dammit, Lawrence repeated the process. He soaked up more Eridium into the needle and drove it down the second time. This had to work.

"Come on"

He dropped the syringe so he could hold onto both of the Siren's shoulders as he gently shook her. Her skin was ghastly cold and she remained unresponsive.

He laid her back down before sitting back defeated. He ran a purple stained hand down his uneven and scared face. This was a giant fuckery, the girl was dead and Jack still had a Siren and the power to open the Vault. To an extent this was what he wanted all along; Jack's Siren dead, but not like this and not under these circumstances.

"Dad..." Her soft voice cried out to him.

Lawrence jolted his head from his hands, the damn girl was alive. Her eyes fluttered open and shut again, the markings down her arm and chest flickered in the darkness.

"You came back…" her pale hand quivered above the surface of the Eridium in attempt to reach him.

"Ahhh..."

She thought he was Jack.

"Sorry...um…", the words came awkwardly to him,"...darling".

Lawrence hastily decided to play along with the Siren's case of mistaken identity; for the moment. She gazed at him questioningly before resting back into the pool of Eridium.

 _Revive her, leave evidence of her death, then flee._

That was his new plan.

leave evidence of her death, he repeated the thought. Leave evidence of her death, again the thought ran through his mind. Lawrence swayed his head to shake the thought away.

He couldn't do it.

However, he needed something, a tooth, some bone anything that could withstand the acidic properties of the Eridium long enough for Jack to ID her. Some trace of her had to stay behind

 _Fuck, fuck fuck._

The poor girl thought her Dad had come back for her and now he was supposed to rip part of her off. Lawrence hesitantly gazed down at the pliers he'd subconsciously taken out from his jacket pocket.

 _Damn, damn, damn...No...I have to do it_ , he reasoned.

Jack has to think she's dead or he'll never stop looking for her.

Jack had to be convinced without any doubt that his daughter died this day, the madman would tear all of Pandora apart just to get her back.

The Siren, Angel had fallen limp again, Lawrence pressed two fingers to her neck. No pulse, he dug deeper, it had to be there. He sighed a breath of relief as he found it, her pulse was so faint, irregular but he felt her tiny heart flutter under his hand.

If Lawrence successfully pulled this skag-shit plan off he'd have one of the universe's most powerful ally by his side. She'd be more than capable to help him escape Pandora, form a new identity, live a life again. He would never have to be Jack.

"It has to be done," Lawrence spoke aloud to reassure himself.

 _Bone or teeth?_

Lawrence gingerly placed his hands under girls shoulders and shifted her onto his lap. He cuffed a hand under her jaw and opened the girl's mouth. He scoffed at the idea of Jack returning and seeing Lawrence with his hands in his dead daughter's throat.

 _It has to be bone or teeth_ , he reasoned again to himself.

Anything else would be eradicated by the Eridium. His pants were surely going to be eaten away by the time he was done. Lawrence turned on the torch and shoved it into his mouth, as a way to keep both hands free as he repositioned the girl. He tilted his head down so the light was cast down onto the girl's pale face.

 _This is really a two person job_ , he frowned. However, he was the only person on the entire base. Who else could he call upon?

Wilhelm was dead (thankfully so), Nisha was sickeningly loyal to Jack, Athena and Janey were...gone, and Felicity one of the few genuine 'people' he'd met had her mind crushed.

Lawrence's eyes narrowed as he summarised the very short list of people he knew, half were either dead the others he couldn't trust follow a recipe.

He Maneuvered the girl's mouth so he could see down her throat and he spotted her back teeth. Thank god her wisdom teeth are there, they are the back ones, right? She won't miss them.

Moving the torch back into his hand and the pliers raised in the other he got into position. He gently pushed the pliers down and on the first go, he grasped onto the back tooth. He dropped the torch and held onto her jaw tight.

Lawrence yanked hard and outward. The pliers hit the top of the girl's mouth and blood gushed down her face. It took more work than he had hoped but eventually, Lawrence was beaming at his prize, the wisdom tooth was poised between the claws of the pliers. Blood was now drowning the poor girl's face.

There was too much blood. Lawrence did not like his chances getting a second, let alone a third or fourth. He ripped a sizable portion of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and drove it into the side of her mouth, hastily he lined the pliers up to find the left tooth. He had to do it.

After some struggling, he claimed the second prize.

Lawrence shook his head, this was a piss poor plan, but he had to leave some form of DNA evidence behind. There was no use retrieving anymore, too much blood welled in her mouth.

He tugged up his pants to reveal the blade holstered to his leg, he unsheathed it. Its silver blade reflected the purple luminosity of the room as he gave it a quick twirl in his hand. He held the Sirens head up as he cut away at her hair. It was most likely futile, the Eridium would eat away at it before the end of the hour, not even the DNA would survive. But he couldn't bring himself to take any more of her teeth...or let alone bone.

 _This will just have to work. It has too. It's a shit plan, but it just has to._


	4. Chapter 4 - Unwelcome Guest

Before leaving the Siren's chamber, Lawrence filled all three emptied health kits with the liquid Eridium, who knew how often he was going to have to inject her?

Next, he scattered what remained of her hair and the teeth he extracted into the purple pool. Finally, he made the awkward journey back to his loft. The girl weighed next to nothing, but maneuvering through the blasted door had proved challenging.

There were too many holes in the plan than he could count. What was he going to do about her clothes? They should be down in the Eridium, and surely he didn't have enough DNA to convince any scan she was there, and what if Jack had data on dead Sirens? Lawrence was hoping everyone would assume she'd just melted away into the Eridium, a skag-shit idea, but it was plausible.

Anyway, she probably has more Eridium than blood pumping through her veins right now. So yeah, plausible.

Lawrence shook his head; he needed an escape plan fast. Jack would be back for the body soon; it was his daughter after all, then again he could already be too distracted with his new Siren. The latter thought seemed more likely as Jack was a coward and Lawrence doubted he'd come back and face what he'd done.

The Siren or Angel rested upon his unmade bed, and it seemed so long ago that he was in a deep, peaceful sleep, killing skags or something.

Did he need to give her another injection already? How long was he going to be able to keep this up?

Eridium was a catalyst and reacted to the substance which surrounded it when in contact with human blood and cells it acted to repair them. The same should go for a Siren, but what else would it do? He'd heard how Lilith moved all of Sanctuary with the use of Eridium; he wondered what possibilities it had allowed Angel to do.

Her round face was deathly pale, her brow furrowed and blue lips parted as she drew deep breaths. Her hair and clothes were still wet with Eridium, and subsequently, she'd drenched his sheets purple.

Lawrence needed her awake; he was well aware of the Sirens ability to navigate software, at least Jack had trusted him enough with that piece of information. The surveillance footage from her chamber and the surrounding halls had to be edited and then destroyed. He sat cautiously on the bed next to her, needle in hand. He'd done this twice now, but the thought still made his stomach turn. His fear of heights had abated a little after his time on Elpis, but his fear of needles ran deep.

I'll try her arm this time, no more chest stabbing.

He wrapped a faded scarf around her upper arm to get her veins present, after some time he had a viable shot. He clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed the Eridium into her arm, before hastily pulling it out and moving the syringe a good distance from him.

She let out a soft cry and rubbed her arm where the needle had momentarily been.

"Ahhh Angel?" Lawrence moved closer so she should hear him, her name felt odd to say aloud.

She tilted her head towards the sound of his voice. Her eyes parted slowly to reveal a vivid blue eye; the other was still lost under her mattered and chopped hair.

"...I don't understand." She whispered back to him.

A pale tattoo laced arm reached for his face, Lawrence allowed her to touch his jaw.

"Where's your mask?….you never take it….off." She closed her eyes again, and her hand fell into his lap.

No wonder she thought he was her Dad, Jack, the monster had branded him with the same mark of the Vault. There was very little - say for some extra grey hair and scars on his part - to distinguish the two men apart.

"I...ahh don't need to wear it around you, K?" Lawrence responded in a voice far softer than he knew he possessed.

Her eyes were closed again, yet she nodded her head.

Lawrence glanced over his shoulder to find the synthetic face laying discarded on the marble floor from whence he'd thrown it away. Today was meant to be the last day he would ever be Jack, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her just yet.

Her delicate face was severely swollen from his earlier "dentistry" hadi-work. He'd shoved and removed several cotton buds in her mouth to soak up the blood, but his pillow had still soaked through. Guilt only claimed him for a moment, his actions no doubt had saved her life and freed her from Jack.

Revive the girl, scatter the DNA, place the clothes, delete the surveillance footage, burn the sheets, find more liquid Eridium, get supplies, flee….

"Alrighty," Lawrence whispered. He needed to dump the Sirens clothes back into the Eridium. They would inevitably dissolve, but he still needed the evidence to at least be there.

She was out cold again.

Lawrence needed her outfit, but he really didn't feel like adding 'stripping minors' onto his resume, he'd already contributed 'shitty dentistry work' to the list today. He could give her another dose of Eridium, that seemed to 'perk' her up. Lawrence's shoulders hunched over as he clenched his fits. Jack had all too often pumped him full with the same substance to 'spur the life' back into him.

As the double to the most feared and hated man on Pandora, Lawrence had his fair share of assassination attempts. Poisoned twice, kidnapped three times for ransom and shot in the neck from a failed sniper shot. Jack would dose him up on Eridium and fuss over him until he was back on his feet. This attention would be fleeting, and before long Lawrence would be back on the field. Ready to do it all again.

He leaned forward off the bed, hands sinking into his scared face with his back hunched away from her. He always knew the outcome of this day would be a chaotic mess, anything involving Sirens, Vault Hunters and defining Jack's orders entailed that. But this? Yeah, this took the cake.

Lawrence unclenched his fits; his palms were discoloured as the blood rushed back to them.

The clothes situation can wait…

Lawrence ran another hand through his fraying hair, pausing for a for a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to approach her about editing the surveillance footage, even in her half-dead state she'd be better equipped at hacking and editing than himself.

"Ahhh Angel? I need you to perk up a bit honey."

She remained unresponsive.

Lawrence leaned forward to reach the syringe he'd discarded earlier. How often was he going to have to do this? At this rate, it seemed every ten minutes. His stomach turned as he slid the needle back into the same spot to deliver the Eridium.

I am keeping her alive, he argued with himself, yet, Jack would have reasoned the same thing, and Lawrence subsequently shuddered in rage. He barely took notice when Angel spoke to him again.

"Dad...just...let me go," she whispered, her tone drained of all energy.

He squeezed the girl's hand.

"I can't do that," Lawrence replied solemnly.

"God damn you…" Her bright eyes opened and bore into him with such contempt that Lawrence could feel her gaze shiver over him.

Her eyes were wide as she spoke, "It's over…"

"I can fix you" Lawrence interjected.

The soft features around her eyes narrowed, and she drew a sharp breath.

Lawrence was sure there was a rebuttal coming, but the girl closed her mouth again. The Eridium was wearing off at an alarming rate. Angel closed her eyes and rested her head back on the pillow. She was seemingly unaware her face was swollen and covered in blood.

Lawrence controlled his rage towards Jack, and with a deep sigh he shed all remorse he had for his actions, he needed this Siren if he were to ever leave Pandora.

I'm not spending my last years on this planet.

"Angel...Honey,"

He squeezed her hand, as he drew up a tablet from his bedside table.

"I need the surveillance footage from this feed edited…"

She remained motionless, but Lawrence was sure his words were reaching her.

"Can you edit it from 348 hrs until now...Can you do that for me please?"

Lawrence reflected on the Siren's last words to her dad; 'you're an asshole'. He wasn't hopeful his request would be granted.

To his surprise, the girl slowly nodded her head yet her eyes remained closed. She lifted her tattooed arm towards the tablet held in front of her; she placed her whole palm against it. The tattoos fluttered a brilliant white which encased the room in her decorative markings.

"Ok thanks, kiddo, I need you to replace it with static….and then cut it to black. All of it. I also need all the cameras out of action."

A moment passed before her hand fell on the tablet back to the bed.

"Done…" a barely audible whisper escaped her blue lips.

"Atta girl" he gingerly patted her arm.

Lawrence hastily refreshed the feed and saw it was indeed done. If anyone else viewed the file, they'd see static from the moment Lilith transported the vault hunters away.

There was only so much Eridium he could scavenge from her chamber, its liquid form needed to remain cold and the purple substance below would be contaminated and turning to crystal. With the injectors destroyed he'd need to get more Eridium elsewhere.

A soft chime rang down the room, Lawrence jerked his head up at the sudden interruption. The unfamiliar noise was emitted from his workstation. It repeated, Lawrence lifted himself off the bed, was it another alarm?

He reached his desk and saw his computer revealed a large notification across the desktop.

INCOMING FAST TRAVEL APPROVAL NEEDED.

Someone was trying to activate the fast travel system. The only one who had clearance was Jack, and there was only one point of travel, Jack's office.

The message read on.

OCCUPANT: Female

DESTINATION: Lynchwood to Bunker: Control Core.

Nisha…Goddammit, Jack must have opened the system up for her, she was likely sent here to collect him and retrieve Angel's body. Lawrence had more than enough pressing matters to deal with and Nisha's sadistic presence lofting around his place would do nothing to abate them. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack's Eridium addicted daughter laying in his bed. He wasn't ready to bail on this shit show just yet.

He couldn't reject Nisha, Jack and his paranoia would suspect treason in a heartbeat. He'd have to accept her request, but first, he needed a hiding place for Angel. He swung around and bolted back to bed where the comatose Siren lay, gingerly he shifted both arms under her and propped her up against him as he lifted her up.

Where was he going to put her? The architects of his loft were overly fond of the open planned layout. Only the bathroom remained closed off. Lawrence pivoted on the spot, desperately seeking a place to lay the Eridium addicted Siren.

Lawrence looked down at the girl's pale face as she stirred in his arms, restless as the Eridium left her body. Lawrence spied the pocket-watch attached to the front of his jacket; Jack's clocking device.

Lawrence had finally been assigned his own cloacking device when he was granted the Siren babysitting gig. It was Jacks old device, when Jack upgraded to the new improved model - that allowed him to jump to Fast travel points - Lawrence was handed down the original.

Lawrence swiftly lowered the girl back to the bed in the gentlest manner he could afford. He clipped the pocket watch off the front of his leather bomber jacket and attached it to the girl's waist. Opening up the face of the watch he was able to activate the device, upon latching it shut the Siren vanished.

Sorted.

He darted back to the workstation and hastily hit the keys to give Nisha access to Bunker.

CLEARANCE HAS BEEN GRANTED. New occupant has arrived at the Bunker: Control Core.

The notification popped up. The fast travel bypassed ALL of the security measures, it was one hell of a hole in the bunker's defenses, but a necessity if Jack wanted to visit his Siren.

Lawrence's attention turned to his appearance, and he peered down at his hands upon the keyboard, they were stained purple and red. He stood up and took a step back and examined his shirt, it was torn and also soaked in Eridium and Angel's blood.

Nisha would've arrived not far from the entrance to his loft; she'd be outside his door any second.

He hastily stripped his holster and stained shirt off and threw it under the dresser. His eyes caught sight of his reflection, his tall body was toned but not without damage, years of battles and assassination attempts had left it scared in too many placed to count. He snatched the cleanest shirt available to him; it was his burgundy gym tank. Lastly, he shoved his brown leather gloves on to hide his stained hands and his holster back over his shoulders.

Time to go greet his unwelcome guest.

He opened the door to the stairwell and peered down the hall at Nisha. She leaned against the railing, her head cocked to the side, and a captivating smile etched across her face, yet her eyes did not hold the same warmth.

"Where is your mask?" she accused as she tossed a dark strand from her face.

Lawrence gave her no reply and jerked his head over her shoulder to invite her in.

Nisha paused before ascending the stairwell. Lawrence gazed down at her as she approached, he couldn't dismiss the fact that Nisha possessed a gorgeous frame for him to admire. Black hair cloaked the sides of her round face, and a toned body strode towards him. If only he could bring himself to forget who Nisha was in every way possible.

Lawrence paced back to the kitchen and opened the top oak cupboards to search for his crystal tumblers.

"Drink?" he offered to his supposed ally.

She eyed him and gave him a slow nod, a broad smile never leaving her lips.

"Always" she cooed to him.

Lawrence poured her a generous amount of scotch and slid the honey coloured drink towards her.

"Did you know?" Lawrence questioned her as he fiddled the cork back into the bottle.

He knew full well that Jack would never have told her about his Siren daughter. In the past few years, he'd became Jack's closest confidence, surpassing even Nisha. If Jack hadn't confided the existence of Angel to him, then Jack wouldn't have told anyone else.

Her eyes never left his as she twirled the crystal tumbler in her hand, inside the golden liquid danced.

"No…" She finally answered.

Nisha broke their gaze and looked down at her drink.

Lawrence resisted the urge to sneer at her, she was hurting. Jack hadn't revealed that little secret. Nisha broke out of her self-pity and turned back to meet his gaze.

"What happened here? Jack isn't saying anything?" she queried him.

"Vault hunters show up, Vault hunters kill Jacks Siren daughter, Jack kills Roland, Jack takes Lilith, last of the vault hunters escape."

"And you?"

"Locked out of action."

Nisha raised a single thin brow.

"Jacks defenses prevented me from getting into the room with the Siren. The Vault Hunters were never meant to get that far." Lawrence explained.

Nisha leaned further into the bench that kept them separated.

"You need to return to Helios, Jack's orders," she voiced sternly.

"Yeah that, ain't happening," Lawrence scoffed at the absurdity of the idea.

"I'm meant to bring you in if you don't comply," her voice didn't waver.

"Jack's daughter is dead, and I was responsible for the security, so yeah, nah, not going. You'll just have to go back empty-handed."

Lawrence shrugged his shoulders at her and gave her an empty look.

The nails on her hands clinked against the glass as she ran them against the crystal. Her hand was an arm's length away from her holstered gun. Unbeknownst to her, Lawrence had a Hyperion revolver taped under the bench between them as well as the one holstered under his arm. If things were to go south, he'd have the upper hand.

To his surprise she sighed and took another long drink; her gun remained holstered.

"I'll give you twelve hours," she negotiated, "just...for Jack to cool off. Then you're coming in."

He gave her a polite smile followed by a nod of thanks. Although doubt reeked through him, Nisha's mercy was a rarity that Lawrence had not seen the likes off.

She finished her drink and tilted the glass towards him, indicating she was after a second; he obliged.

Was she planning on spending the entire twelve hours here? Lawrence could not allow that.

The tension was so thick he felt he could choke on it. To abate his struggling composure he finished his drink and poured a second. He took another long sip, before placing it down. Nisha hadn't made a move to leave, she was still leaning into the table; coat parted and chest exposed.

"I'm sure we could do more than drinking to pass the time" she purred to him in a low voice.

Her eyes lingered on his bare arms, tracing the tattoos on his wrist and following the scars that decorated his biceps. Over the years Nisha's appetite had grown before he was branded she thought of him nothing more than a cruel joke. She was very vocal about that, he'd later found out it was actually her idea to brand him. However, as Timothy killed and plundered Pandora Nisha's interest grew. He could swear her fantasy involved him and Jack doing something unforgivable to her in the middle of The Dust. He raised a brow as he turned to escape her hungry gaze, eagerly wanting to dismiss the thought.

A soft moan escaped from the back of his loft, Angel had called out to him.

"What was that?" Nisha was abruptly pulled out of her fantasy, her eyes sharp and brow furrowed.

Lawrence gave Nisha no explanation.

He went for the gun under the table, in one swift motion he swung it up and fired. It would've been a clean kill, but Nisha had spent her entire childhood dodging violence. She dove behind his couch before returning fire. Blood trickled the flood, good, he'd hit her somewhere.

"Fuck you, you damn copy!" She cursed back at him from behind the couch, all tones of seduction gone.

"What the fuck was that?" She continued to curse, Lawrence kept his aim focused.

He chose to evade her questions, "I was hoping you'd have more empathy than this Nisha" he called out to her.

"What?" she sneered in reply from behind her cover.

"Jack imprisoned his daughter, chained her to Eridium injectors for years." He paused, "Didn't your mother teach you it was wrong to hurt children" he catechized.

Nisha flung further curses at him.

"What would you care! You only knew of her existence a few hours ago!" She hissed at him.

She has me there.

Lawrence despised to have Nisha as an ally, yet she was the sheriff of an Eridium mining town. A substance he was in desperate need of.

He heard a tearing sound, and Nisha grunting.

"All right there Kiddo?" Lawrence spoke in his double's tone.

"Shut it," she growled back.

Nisha continued to hiss through gritted teeth as she bandaged herself. Lawrence still didn't have eyes on her, but it was evident she was bleeding out. A dark crimson liquid was running through the grooves of the tiled floor from behind the couch.

"Nisha, I've got Jacks Daughter."

The Lawbringer remained silent.

"She's in bad shape. Chances are she won't make it."

"So what? Are you trying to play hero here?"

Lawrence clenched his teeth, that word had lost its meaning a long time ago.

"She needs more Eridium"

"Ha! Are you askin for my help cowboy?", she scoffed before taunting him, "I don't think so."

Dammit you stupid depraved woman

"You just fucking shot me," she shouted.

"I thought that would get your attention." He'd honestly just acted instinctively once Angel's cover had been blown.

"You've not got a lot of choices here, pumpkin" Lawrence stressed the use of the pet name.

Silence followed again.

"Where's the girl?" Nisha finally spoke, her voice softening for the first time since their fire-fight.

"I'm going to lower my gun...I need you to stand up slowly for me."

"I don't think so love," the bitterness returned to her voice.

Lawrence patience was up. He strode over to the couch, gun aimed where he assumed Nisha's head would be resting on it. He turned the corner, anticipating a load of gunfire; he received none.

He glared down at his fallen comrade, she was a few tints paler, and her left arm gripped her right shoulder which was crudely bandaged. Her gun was poised in her other hand aimed directly at his head. Her face was unwavering in its fierce dedication to remain focused, and her gun arm was steady regardless of the blood loss.

"idiot... " he muttered to her, her lips twitched resisting a smile.

Lawrence offered her his hand, gun still in the other. She stared at his open palm in disgust for a solid ten seconds before refusing it and shifted herself up the couch. She stood, legs firm on the ground, but her face was even paler than before.

Lawrence scoffed at her resistance, before walking back over to the kitchen. His face did not reveal the panic in his chest as he slowly turned his back to her. Lawrence found the emptied contents of the health-kit injector in his coffee mug. He gave it a light swirl to check it hadn't expired since being exposed, satisfied it was still good, he gingerly made his way back to Nisha.

He offered her the cup, she glanced down at its red contents.

"Why is that, in a mug?" she quired as her brow raised.

"Just take it, will you?" Lawrence pressed.

Lawrence observed how her hand quivered as she reached for the glass, she scolded him when he took notice. She pressed the mug to her lips and downed all of it.

"Hey...Hey! Cut it!" He snatched the mug from her hands, "that's all we've got."

"Oh so, it's we now?"

Bloody hell Nisha.

"Come ere," he gruffed at her, again he exposed his back to the Lawbringer. He heard her footsteps steady themselves behind him as she followed. Lawrence led her through the living room around the back to where his open bedroom sat.

"Oh is foreplay over already?" She pressed her index finger deep into the back of his arm and ran it down before he yanked away.

"Honey I'm into some rough play, but what happened here?" She scanned his purple and blood-stained bed.

Her eyes lingered on the empty syringe and the other two, full of Eridium on his bedside table. She snaked her way from behind him and approached the set of needles. Lawrence pushed past her before she could reach for one.

Lawrence leaned down, his hands running along the invisible surface of the Siren. He found the round metal texture of his pocket watch, he pried it open and switched the device off before shutting it back. The Siren instantly appeared before them both.

Lawrence stepped back as Nisha move forward towards the girl. Nisha stood tall, and stared down at Angel, unaware that Lawrence could see Nisha's hand quiver before she clenched it tight.

"She looks nothing like him…" Nisha observed softly, her hand unclenched as she reached out to touch the girl, assuring she was real.

"And what happened to her face?"

Lawrence scrunched his jaw tight as he checked over Nisha's shoulder. Angel's face was severely swollen on both sides, blood stains dripping down her chin.

"Yeah, that was my bad." Lawrence reached for the emptied syringe and sucked up what Nisha had left in the mug.

"Scoot over," he placed a hand on Nisha to push her away so he could sit down next to the girl.

He pressed the needle into her jaw and let the last of the health kit work its magic. Nisha folded both her arms, hips cocked to the side again. The health kit she'd drank earlier had done its work, as all evidence of their little shootout had left her body.

Lawrence looked up at her, hand running over his jaw as he focused his next words. "This stuff," he pointed over to the Eridium, "is the only thing keeping her alive."

Lawrence sighed before continuing, "I think if I can ween it off her, she may be able to make it, but I need more Eridium, and it has to be in its liquid form."

"That's not going to be easy, Handsome."

Lawrence ignored the pet name and folded his arms, "I know, but you could get it for me."

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

Nisha sauntered a few steps towards him and lowered herself, so she was level with him on the bed.

"Jack would love to know that his favourite double brought his daughter back to life," she cooed to him, moving closer than he liked.

Despite his reasonings, he still felt a hot flush run down his chest.

"For god's sake Nisha," he growled as he placed a hand on her chest to stop her advancements.

Annoyed at her rejection, she straightened back up, "Just because mummy threw a few things at me, doesn't mean I'm about to bail out of my gig with Jack - which is lovely at the moment, thanks for asking - and go play Siren babysitting with you."

Lawrence shook his head away from her to look down onto Jacks daughter.

To his surprise, Nisha spoke in a softer tone.

"But…" Nisha seemed lost for words, Lawrence jerked his head towards her and studied her face. Her jaw was tight, and her head gave the slightest nod before she spoke through clenched teeth. "I'll see that the girl lives."

Oh-my-fucking-god, thank fuck, finally.

Nisha would never admit to him, but Lawrence's suspicions were right. The woman could not let it slide that Jack had abused his own daughter for years. Lawrence's face must have revealed what he was thinking, and Nisha's round features screwed up as she hissed at him, "Oh it's not what you think pretty boy. I'll get something out of you later."

Yeah, most likely a spit-roast.

Lawrence couldn't help that thought reveal itself on his face, and he gave her a toothy grin.

Nisha ignored him, "Is she right to travel?"

"Not likely and we can't use the fast travel option, Jack would notice a third person leaving the complex."

"Fine, she stays. You, with me."

Reluctantly, Lawrence bid the sleeping siren farewell with a final double Eridium dose before departing. He quickly put another shirt on over his gym tank to Nisha's displeasure before meeting her at the fast travel station.

Nisha selected 'Lynchwood'.

"Time for you to get cozy at my place."

And they both digitised away.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Nisha is the best.

As always your thoughts and comments are much appreciated. Trying to keep to a weekly update schedule so stay tuned!

And thanks to those who have commented so far! It's great to hear people's thoughts on it.

A03 Version, if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	5. Chapter 5 - Envy & Lust

Lynchwood; the name was accurate, and Nisha was fond of how well her little mining town had grown. When Jack first asked her to run the county, she'd thrown her head back and laughed the idea off. It was nothing but a dead, barren place, full of decrepit lost souls, but it was her town, and with time she'd made it as she saw fit.

"This way" Nisha barked at Lawrence to follow, "and quickly now, I don't want these heathens to witness me escorting my 'boyfriend' around town."

She adjusted the golden star atop her jacket as she quickened her pace away from the train station. Only slowing down to take a moment to study her lover's double. His mismatched eyes were sharp, and they darted along the rooftops, his posture low and ready for action.

"Relax, nothing to fear here," she deliberately concealed a reassuring tone.

They strode down the train tracks, not bothering with the perfectly usable path alongside it. Nisha felt a jolt of warmth run over her chest as she eyed some poor soul hide beneath his window upon seeing her.

"I love what you've done with the place," Lawrence gave her a toothy grin as he eyed the hanging corpses above the tracks.

"There are rules to be followed, Jack wanted order on Pandora, so I've given it to him," she asserted.

Lawrence just grumbled a "sure thing," but she paid him no mind.

The double had never been fond of their vision for Pandora, sure the double would head out on missions, kills bandits, comply with torture when needed, but she saw the doubt and conflict residing within him.

He may have Jack fooled, but she knew better. Regardless, she'd see him through his doubt; I'll make a man out of him yet.

Her brisk pace came to a halt as they reached the far end of the mine, around a sharp corner an elevator lay waiting to escort them to the top of the canyon. She'd designed the place herself. Her manor was embedded into the side of the canyon so she could overlook every aspect of her dirt-ridden town. Twelve men died halfway through construction when the scaffolding partially collapsed, that detail added extra flavour to her residence.

The elevator ride was loud, and the motor that pulled the cart to the top stalled once or twice. Nisha relished the sight of Lawrence grasping the railing in fear as they neared the end of their accent. Contrary to what he may have told her, his fear of heights was still strong.

Another grind of metal on metal revealed her stone walled apartment. The place was narrow to allow for a massive window to run the length of it to let in the light. Nisha swayed past him and led him into the kitchen, deliberately bending low as she sought out a cooler-bag for him.

Lawrence had followed silently, his eyes still shiting to every corner to identify a threat. His discomfort made something stir within in her; she could almost purr at his fear.

"So what's your heroic plan with the girl? Going to play papa and whisk her away?"

Lawrence took a deep breath before answering, "the less you know, the better. She can't go back to Jack."

Nisha replied with a low growl, her mind raced as she sought an alternative way forward. She would never betray Jack, but something irked her about this Angel. Was she really his daughter? Maybe she was some Siren he just stole and got attached too, that seemed far more likely.

Either way, with Lawrence running off with the girl she'd have the attention of Jack back in her grasp. He'd been very protective and overly forgiving of his double. It was a nuisance to find Jack fussing over him instead of her.

Nisha shuddered with silent rage, and she bit down on her lip in frustration. She despised how her envy could take over.

She caught Lawrence eyeing her up and down, and she couldn't distinguish between the feelings of wanting to hit him or kiss him. Instead, she turned and sauntered over to her freezer. Nisha placed both hands down and swung open the double door freezer, swaying to the side to dramatise the moment.

Lawrence stepped forward, and his eyes scanned the contents of the freezer. Nisha stepped further aside to allow him access.

"Eridium, all stocked here, this liquid stuff does wonders when you're feeling low."

Lawrence slowly turned, so his eyes latched onto hers, his dorky smile was replaced with a cold gaze as he reached to retrieve the cooler-bag from grasp.

"I know precisely what it does," he spoke in a low snarl as he turned his attention to the freezer.

"Oh I know darling, Jack told me about your little incident," she taunted back.

It felt good to watch his back stiffen at her words, payment for the taunts he'd delivered to her earlier. Jack had given her all of the delicious details, how he'd found his double passed out in his own stomach contents, the syringe still embedded in his arm and their place ransacked. Apparently, Jack's little copy couldn't keep his pretty little hands off the purple stuff. She would've given up ownership of the town to see that smug face of his withering in pain, suffering from weeks of withdrawals. She had resented Lawrence during that time as Jack had vented most of his anger towards her, Jack had taken weeks of work to smother that boy in affection to bring him back 'to the light.'

Envy reared its ugly head again as she bit down on her tongue to suppress the thought. She toyed with the idea of pushing the matter further, to see him riled up would be a sweet treat.

Jack was overly fond of his double, and despite her resentment, she could see why. He had Jacks looks, and more muscle tone than him, he was more sensitive, but he had a dry wit about him that she loved and his finesse in battle could not be underrated.

These days, Jack's handiwork with a gun was sloppy at best.

Nisha reaped in the sight as he leaned into the freezer to collect the bottled Eridium. It wouldn't be the first time she'd have Lawrence under her influence. Before he'd been stationed to guard that Siren, Jack had sent them out into The Dust to seek out some rare old Atlas tech. The mission proved fruitless; instead, they were ambushed by a heavily armed and coordinated gang of bandits, their attack caught them off guard, but they prevailed.

Lawrence had burst into hysterics from the high of the battle and their close scrape with death. His chest was painted crimson from a close-range shotgun blast, and his face was wild with relief. She'd never let her lust abate her and she didn't then. Nisha had flung herself into her lover's copy, and he had reciprocated her with the same ferocity. All memory of the nervous and awkward double had been wiped from her mind. Ever since he'd been burned with the mark of the Vault he had become a different man. This man before her still had his faults, his doubts about Pandora, but at least he actually accompanied her into battle.

Nisha's tongue rolled over her teeth at the memory, it had been a one-time thing, but she would never say no to round two.

Lawrence finished stashing the last of the bottled Eridium away.

"I suppose we won't be able to play anymore after this?" her tone as sly as the smile she gave the double.

"Guess not," he shrugged as he placed the full cooler-bag on the ground.

"I'm sure your princess can wait a little longer to be saved."

He sighed, "Nisha I have to-"

Nisha caught him by surprise as both her hands leaped onto his chest. Lawrence stumbled back into the open freezer, but he didn't protest. She heard him grunt as his back was driven into the cold shelving, she purred at his discomfort.

Lawrence drew a sharp breath as she clawed a hand down his biceps before locking her teeth into his neck. She took in everything she could, his scent was different from Jack's, and his collarbone was more pronounced. Her hands ran feverishly over his angular back; his shoulders were not as broad, oh but, he was so much fitter, and firmer than the real Jack. Evidence of the double's field work and a lack of Jack's.

Lawrence didn't pause to argue the situation, and Nisha was thankful for that. His tongue dived into her waiting mouth. Their kiss was violent, teeth hit teeth and tongues were nipped, it wasn't romantic or graceful, but Nisha couldn't care less.

Her hands slipped down his back, over his hips, going lower, seeking their mark. Lawrence only gripped her tighter, and she felt hot waves run down her exposed navel. Nisha let out a shudder from the sudden sensation ripping through her abdomen. Lawrence's grip on her shoulders loosened, and he leaned back to latch his mismatched eyes onto hers. His soft expression sharpened and the scars on his face contorted.

"So sorry kitten" he purred in a tone which mocked her own and Jack's.

The pain overcame her lust, and Nisha stepped back to see Lawrence's unsheathed knife deep in her lower left abdomen. Hot blood had already soaked down her pants, and her hands shook over the embedded blade, unsure whether leave it or shove the damn thing into his neck.

Lawrence's hand dived forward and drew the knife out. A curse tried to slip out but she fumbled the words, her knees went weak, and she fell to her knees and palms to steady her breathing.

"You..cunt..." she hissed looking up at him.

Lawrence had already lifted the strap of the cooler-bag over his shoulder and just gave her one of his hunched up shrugs. A deeply satisfied expression was imprinted on his scarred face as he kneeled down before her. The knife now sheathed and a gun was in his hand.

"You know, I think I recognise this look," he spoke as his eyes trailed over her face, "yeah, it's exactly how I must've looked before you handed Jack that searing iron bar," he spoke with such venom she was sure his tongue was forked.

"You bastard" she grunted through her teeth, you should thank me.

"That mark on your face made you everything you are" she heaved through sharp, shallow breaths. "You think I was interested in the man you were before that?!" She spat at him.

Lawrence only responded by standing back up; gun pointed at her head. Blood pooled beneath her. It took more energy than she cared to admit to look up at him.

"I can't have you crawling back to Jack, and I know how much you'd want to give him the good news about his dear Angel" the words were more Jack like than she could imagine, cruel and coated in glee.

She shuddered, regretting all thoughts she had about his weaknesses, what kind of monster had he become?

"I won't tell him" she began to reassure him, but his gaze wielded no mercy.

"Yes, you would" He gave a brisk tisk and shook a finger at her.

"No wait! Tim-"

The gun fired and everything went black.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

I know it's not canon for Nisha to die this way, but hey, she died trying to get laid and that's something she'd totally do :) I just wish she could have stayed around longer. Reviews are very much appreciated, its good to know if anyone is reading this lol xx

A03 Version, fi you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	6. Chapter 6 - Escape the Bunker

Lawrence digitased back to The Bunker with haste, his breathing still irregular and shallow from his most recent kill. Nisha's blood had ran through the groves of her stone flooring the rest was plastered across Lawrence's chest. He wiped a long hand down his face and removed what blood and brain matter still clung to him, his body still shook shook with a feverish high.

Nisha's pleading face was pleasantly engraved in his memory, he gritted his teeth and wished it could have played out longer than it had. She'd even used his real name in her last beg for mercy.

 _Only Jack can call me Tim._

Lawrence had wanted to destroy that smug confidence of hers for so long, she'd been hovering behind him for far too long.

However, he could treasure that moment later, pressing matters needed to be dealt with; namely reviving a sick Siren. He dashed up the stairs to his loft, scanning the security fields before bolting back to the Siren. She was still laying on his bed, unmoved. He swiftly shoved the emptied syringe into the bottled Eridium and gave her another dose. Ignoring the tightness in his stomach as he discarded the syringe.

She stirred with more effort this time and her eyes opened quicker than before.

"Dad, what keeps happening...I feel...odd," she whispered to him.

Lawrence remained unresponsive, he'd not anticipated she'd recover so quickly and so silence seemed like the logical option. She ran a pale hand over her jaw and looked down quizzically when her fingertips had collected the dry blood from her face.

"What happened to my face?" She questioned him again and still, Lawrence left her without answers.

She was alert now and studying the dried blood along her fingertips. She propped her weight on her elbows and pushed herself up against the leather upholstered headboard. Her eyes scanned the room, there was a certain clarity to her expression that had not been there before. She raised her hand to her face again to brush what remained of her hair away, before opening her eyes wide in terror.

"What happened to my hair?!" she shrieked at him, her hands frantically ran down the strands and pulling at air when she couldn't find the ends of them.

Lawrence didn't answer and not because he was deliberately withholding answers but because of her eyes. He couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed it before but the eye behind her crudely chopped fringe was green; she had Jack's eyes. Lawrence's mouth was agape as he just stared back at mismatch eyes with his own. There was no mistaking it now, the Siren was indeed Jack's daughter.

Lawrence cleared his throat, "What is last thing you remember?" he asked cooly. He had no idea how Jack would have interacted with her and he no experience with talking to teenagers.

"Um… I don't know…" She turned to him as he hands continued to brush through her black hair, her brow still furrowed from discovering her new haircut.

Lawrence decided to give her some answers before pressing the matter, "I'm sorry about your hair, you were sick and it was everywhere, so I tried to cut it out," the lie was pathetic but it was plausible.

Angel opened her mouth to protest, to provide a counterpoint but he cut her off.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Angel's gaze returned to her blood tipped fingers her lips were in a thin line. A deafening silence followed and with every passing moment Lawrence grew impatient. He leaned further into the bed, "Angel?" he pressed.

"I was helping you with research," she finally answered; her tone flat.

"Research on what?"

"I think, I was helping you research...the contagion."

"Space-hurps?"

She nodded meekly, her hands twisting the sheets together.

"What about it?"

"We were looking at the best way to administer the vaccination. I think, it all not clear"

Her hand rubbed her forehead as if to push the memories forward.

 _That was four years ago before this base was even built. Does she even remember what her Jack did to her?_

Lawrence knew full well the effects of Eridium treatments on the brain, he'd lost large chunks of time and the memories that did come back were fleetly and sporadic. He had to rely on Jack to fill him in during these times of blackness.

"Dad, what happened?" She spoke as she looked at her surroundings, "Where am I?"

Lawrence shifted his gaze to his hands that rested on the bedside.

"You ah...were sick, very, very sick. I've put you on an Eridium treatment plan to get you back on your feet."

"What?!" she exclaimed.

"It's ok, it's only a few small doses" he reasoned.

He eyes darted to the large empty syringes on the bedside table and her complexion grew paler.

"It doesn't look like a small dose" she sternly replied.

 _Damn, this girl is sharper than a Rakks talons._

"Where are we?" She inquired.

"Pandora."

"What! why? Why move me? I thought you said I was safe on Helios!"

Lawrence lifted himself up off the bed, choosing to ignore her pleads for answers.

"We need to get moving, There's a safe house not too far from here. Once we're there I'll explain everything", Lawrence finished with a long sigh. He still needed to work out how they were going to get there and what his endgame was.

"But ah first, those clothes, you can't wear those." Lawrence jerked his head down at her and her eyes followed his gaze to trail down her blood and Eridium stained "clothes".

 _More like leather straps and cords. What on earth was Jack thinking?_

"Oh," she exclaimed once realising the state she was in.

Lawrence moved to his dresser and tossed the girl one of his grey tees and a Hyperion yellow sweater. Before he could source some pants for her she yelled out in protest, "I'm not wearing your clothes! That's just weird"

"You got a dresser around here?" he replied with a brow raised.

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Get changed, we're leaving in ten." With the matter settled he threw her the smallest sized pants he owned.

Lawrence moved to the kitchen to give Jack's daughter some privacy. The bottle of scotch was still on the bench and so he poured himself a drink to subside his nerves. The drink went down quickly and so a second one was poured and then a third. Jack loved his scotch but Lawrence loved old fashions more. They found a compromise with the cocktail, it took some convincing for Jack to take his first sip as he was always prone to anger and outbursts whenever Lawrence wanted him to change a habit that benefited him. However, he ended up winning him over with the orange and sweet drink and it became a staple for them both. Lawrence allowed a small smile to creep across his face, light footsteps touched down on the marble floor behind him and Lawrence shook the smile away. He turned to face Angel's newly dressed form cautiously stepping towards him, she looked ridiculous in his clothes although they were more appropriate for travel than what she had been wearing previously.

"What do you want me to do with these?" She held up her grey, black and yellow leather outfit. He placed down his drink and took the bundle of clothes off the girl.

"Stay put, I'll be right back."

Carrying the clothes he returned to her chamber, without so much as glance at his surroundings he tossed them back into the Eridium where she once lay. The purple liquid started to foam against the new contents. He hastily turned and exited the room, as his hands absentmindedly rubbed the inside of his arm. All he could hope for now is that Jack buys the story of his daughter dissolving away into the toxic substance.

He returned to the loft to find the girl on his balcony.

"I know it's not real, but it feels so close to being outside" she spoke followed by a soft smile. She continued to watch the simulated night sky as Lawrence prepped for their journey.

He stripped his shirt for the second time. Nisha's blood had sprayed across him, funnily enough, Angel had paid no mind to that. He pushed a cream henley shirt over his head, followed by his brown leather bomber jacket which cuffed at his elbows and finally his leather holster. He equipped everything that could fit in his gear-ship, along with a few days of rations. Everything except the syringes and the cooler bag of Eridium.

"Kiddo, it's time to go," he called out as he checked his composure in the mirror.

He shifted the strap of the Eridium bag against his shoulders. When she didn't respond he paced back into the kitchen to see that she was still leaning on the edge of the balcony.

"Angel!" His voice snapped her out of whatever peaceful thought she was in.

"Come over here"

She walked up to him, her soft features were furrowed in concern. Lawrence only felt a fleeting moment of guilt for startling the girl.

"I need you to carry this", Lawrence held out the Eridium cooler bag for her to take.

Gingerly she reached out and swung the strap over her head. The weights of the bag pulled her shoulders into a slump.

"Can't you put it in your gear chip? I don't really feel up to carrying anything."

"No." Lawrence replied coolly. He instantly regretted his demeanor as her expression and shoulders sank further.

"I just...can't be around the Eridium, ok?" he offered her his weak excuse before removing his pocket watch.

"I also need you to wear this."

He beckoned her to come closer, her face relaxed after seeing him holding out the clocking device.

"Your pocket watch?"

Lawrence clipped it on the rim of his tee which was baggy against her slight frame.

"Yes, we need to leave this place and absolutely no one can see you. Do you understand?"

She nodded and looked at the item now adored on her chest.

"Good," he sighed and shifted his holster again, "Don't say a word and stay close to me."

She nodded again.

They couldn't use the fast travel, Jack would notice a second occupant leaving the complex. He'd already considered fixing one of the Buzzards that had fallen onto the roof but deemed that too long of a task. No, they'd just have to walk out the front door.

 _It's finally time leave this skag-shit show._

* * *

They met zero resistance from the Loader-bots, evidence that Jack hadn't programmed in any commands to prevent him from leaving. Which meant his betrayal was still undetected. He strained his ears to make sure the girl stayed close to his side if she ran away now it would've all been for nothing.

The road exiting the Bunker was long and sloped around the mountainside, Lawrence kept close to the gravel wall, not wanting to get a glimpse of the path below. He had never planed he would have to forfeit the use of Fast-Travel stations. The journey to his safe house was going to be long and he hoped the girl could make it.

"What time is it?" she hissed, Lawrence scolded at her for breaking her silence, "Six thirty, it won't be daylight for another twenty-two hours."

They continued to trudge downhill in the darkness, evading fallen loader bots and dead Hyperion soldiers on either side. Sparks still flew from some of the destroyed loaders and their 'corpses' creaked from cooling in the night. Scorch marks and blood decorated the paved road.

"What happened here?"

"Angel, quiet" he hissed back at her, it would only take one loader bot to register her voice and send the details back to the real Jack.

Thankfully the base of the hill was in sight, Lawrence sighed in relief, perhaps they could snag a vehicle from a nearby camp; the relief was short lived. After leaving the Bunker they would enter no-man's land, a barren wasteland scarred with craters from either sides bombs and snipers.

Lawrence scanned the view in front, unsure on the best way to proceed.

The safe house was all the way to the north of the Highlands on the edge of The Dust, an eighty-kilometer journey at least an impossible on foot undetected.

"There" Lawrence pointed ahead, Angel had seemingly taken off the clocking device and was now squinting at his side.

"That truck, we're taking that."

"Ok…" she answered unsure as to why he needed to steal a bandit truck.

Lawrence turned and rested a hand on her shoulder, he ignored the flinch she gave under his touch. "I'll explain everything once we get to the safe house until then I need you to stay by my side."

She nodded meekly.

"How are you feeling, you may need another dose." Lawrence looked down at the bag strapped over her shoulder.

"I'm ok."

"Good...for now, it'll be best if you stay put, I'll bring the truck over."

The truck was hundred, no maybe a hundred and fifty meters away, Lawrence digitised his sniper out from his gear chip and activated its night vision. Looking down the sight he could see that the truck had been taken out by the Bunkers torrents, the roof of the car was littered with holes and picked clean corpses lined the ground next to it. The engine looked relatively intact, the accuracy of the torrents was profound as they had seemingly hit only its bandit targets.

Lawrence drew up a cruel smile, the torrent's accuracy was his handy work.

Lawrence took his first step into the unoccupied territory, his heart instantly quickening as he took another step forward. He stalked towards the car, keeping low to the ground. Every so often he darted to a bomb crater for shelter before stalking back out and proceeding forward.

The ground was barren except for the drying remains of bones and casing shells. He wondered if there was anything valuable to loot? No one walked through these parts so the chances of a good find were high.

A faint crack echoed in the distance, snapping him out of his thoughts as he was flung to the ground.

"DAD!" Angel shrieked in the distance.

Before he could register the pain Lawrence rolled back into the crater from whence he just exited. The sniper from Brick's camp fired again but only claimed the dirt above him.

Pain seared up his arm, he yanked up his jacket and looked down at her bicep, thankfully there was an exit wound. Lawrence buried the back of his head into the dirt, keeping himself on level with the ground as possible. There was another crack and more dirt flew overhead.

Thankfully Brick's snipers were not as good as a shot as he was.

His eyes scanned the edges of the mountainside for Angel, panic overrode his chest, the girl was nowhere to be seen. He scouted up the road to the Bunker and he couldn't see her there either. Lawrence convinced himself she was under the cloaking device and was fine, that was until movement caught his attention in his peripheral vision. Over to the nearest crater, he saw the dirt shift on the ground.

 _No...you stupid girl_. Lawrence cursed under his breath.

With wide eyes he watched in horror as the ground shifted towards him, footsteps were printed on the ground but there was no body to accompany them. Lawrence cursed quietly when he felt her presence beside him. Dirt avalanched onto his chest as she laid in the crater next to him. She switched the clocking device off and appeared beside him, her eyes shining bright and her knees covered in dirt.

"What are you doing?" he snarled at her.

"Saving you!" she snarled back with equal hostility.

Lawrence gripped his arm, blood seeping through his clenched fingers. Faintness was already creeping over his mind.

"Wait here."

"No! Angel! No! Get back here!" He reached out to hold her in place, but she moved faster than his anticipated. She reactivated the clocking device and all he snatched was thin air and another close miss with the sniper's bullet.

Lawrence used his good arm to dig deeper into the crater and lodge his shoulder into the hole. The seconds dragged on, Lawrence shut his eyes praying he wouldn't here another gunshot in the distance. Yet the night remained silent, not even Rakks could be heard, Lawrence focused on his breathing and tried to gain control of the dizziness in his head. The blood was quickly seeping through his shirt and down his side, he needed to bandage the wound but didn't dare maneuver in the shallow crater in which is laid.

 _Or else it'll become a shallow grave._

An engine stalled in the distance and he was ripped him from his thoughts of pain and bandages. Angel had reached the truck. The engine revved again but died, she tried again and yet again the truck failed her. A gunshot echoed across the valley and Lawrence felt his heart pull tight. The night seemed to stall and he wanted nothing more than to peep over his dirt wall.

The truck gave another rev and this time it didn't fail her. The bandit truck and its ridiculous turbo engine roared to life if the gunshots hadn't woken up the entire valley then that surely did.

Lawrence flung himself from his dirt dunker and sprinted head on for the truck. Gunshots rang out and the dirt either side of him exploded from the impacts. His shot arm throbbed in pain as he pumped it to eg his legs on. Another bullet tore so close to him he felt the heat radiate through his jacket.

"Scoot over, kiddo!"

Angel hastily climbed over into the passenger side as Lawrence threw himself into the truck, he swung the door close only to find it was too bent out of shape to seal shut. Ignoring his seatbelt, he put the truck into gear and threw his foot onto the peddle.

Dirt flew up behind the vehicle, Lawrence looked over his shoulder and reversed the car out of the ditch that had claimed it. Satisfied they were in the clear he sped onwards, changing gear as the truck pushed its limits. He didn't stop for anything, and Angel yelled at him as he hit a skags den. They breached the edge of no-mans land and sped on into the night.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Thanks for the favs and follows guys! BTW this story hasn't been beta read, so if you leave a review feel free to point out any mistakes, I'd appreactite it :)

PS, first 40,000 words have already been written so stay tuned!

A03 Version is you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	7. Chapter 7 - Becoming Jack Part I

Lawrence had been shot with a sniper once before, it hurt like hell then and it hurt like hell now. The first time was years ago, one of the first - and thankfully - unsuccessful assassination attempt against his life, no, Jack's life.

Lawrence was visiting Opportunity overseeing the construction of some ludicrous building dedicated to Jack's achievements. His face had only just healed from the mark of the vault and he was more than keen to escape Helios and Jack's watchful eye.

The culprit of the shot was only a marginally better sniper than the one from Brick's camp, the bullet had missed his head and gone above his collarbone. One quick fast travel back to Helios and a week intensive care saw him back on his feet. That was his first, but definitely not his last Eridium treatment.

* * *

"Jack, how's it lookin?" the real Jack called to him over his echo-comm.

Lawrence bit down on his tongue to prevent him retorting at the use of the name. Yes, he'd sworn to himself he'd accept being Jack, never again did he want to suffer like he did with the mark of the vault. However, the name left a sour taste in his mouth and only with a focused mindset could he hide his disgust from Jack. Lawrence bit down on his tongue harder and let the moment pass.

"The statues have been commissioned to our specifications," Lawrence replied as he looked down at the spec sheet in his hand. The dimensions, weights, and figures for a gold statue of Jack defending Pandora was printed on the page. Lawrence's lip curled up, the statue looked ridiculous and as tasteless as mud.

"Swell," Jack praised, before his tone went south, "next find that lead engineer for me and shoot in him in the face, but do it somewhere, where it won't make a mess. I don't want his brains ruining my white paving."

Lawrence rolled his eyes at Jacks violent request, he didn't expect an explanation why, yet it turned out Jack was in a forthcoming mood today.

"I've been calling him all morning and the guy has taken off to see his sick mother or something. Anyway, handle that for me, better yet shoot the mother first see if that brings him back to work, if not, well double murder is better than regular murder!"

Lawrence threw his head back and held onto a groan, more murder, yay.

Jack continued to ramble on a list of tasks that may or may not have involved additional violence, yet the double had already tuned out and just mumbled 'yes, sir' over and over into the comm.

The background noise of grinding metal, hammering, and construction workers giving commands to loaders seemed distant. Lawrence abruptly stopped his inspection of the construction site, he tilted his head as he realised how very alone he was on the base. The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall and his eyes narrowed as he scouted the area.

Something felt off, he tried to explain it to Jack but to no avail.

"Jack wait-"

"Don't ever cut me off kiddo," Jack's voice was dangerously low, but Lawrence paid it no mind. He paced around the corner to check the perimeter only to find no one there as well.

Where is my security team? Was there a shift change?

As Jack was giving him grief for the interruption, Lawrence swiveled on the spot, arm reaching for his gun.

He didn't hear the shot echo out but he felt his head collide with the concrete. There was a sickening thud as he was thrown to the ground and a ringing erupted in his ears. He emitted a gurgled cough and reached for his neck, crimson painted his fingertips. Lawrence shifted his head to see his comm had fallen to his side, too winded to grasp it he just listened on to Jack's continued yelling.

Slowly he strived his muscles forward to reach the comm, the effort needed to stretch his arm out registered him to the pain. He let out a long yell and hissed as his looked down at his chest. The bullet wound was too high but he could see the blood sticking to his undershirt. He let out another groan as he successfully reached the echo-comm and called the loaders to his side, the nearest loader jumped from a rooftop just in time to cop a second bullet for him. Then a second, and third loader came until he was surrounded by a team of metal who protected him from the onslaught.

Wearily, he held the echo-comm up and was thankful Jack hadn't disconnected the call, with a bloodied hand he switched on the video feed.

Jack's eyes were sharp and his teeth bared as he yelled at him for being unresponsive before his eyes widened as he realised Lawrence's condition. The look of shock quickly changed into something new, a look Lawrence had never seen on Jack, his mouth was agape and his expression softened for the first time. Jack opened his jaw wider to speak but nothing came out yet he did draw in a sharp breath of air.

"How..." Jack spoke face still flustered, yet that small ounce of concern was quickly thrown aside.

"What happened!?" Jack barked at him for answers, "what have you done to yourself!?"

All Lawrence could do in reply was cough blood onto the screen before he rested his head back on the ground. He could hear voices yelling in the distance, you could practically smell the panic in the air. The edges of his vision were blinded by dark spots, soon it consumed him and then there was nothing.

* * *

Handsome Jack was indestructible, Handsome Jack was a hero who couldn't be taken down, Handsome Jack could survive a bullet and return to work that day!

These were the news reports which had circled all over the network the past week, whilst Lawrence laid in bed recovering from the failed assassination attempt. The real Jack claimed the glory and Lawrence had been given a toxic combination of drugs that were certainly going to give him grief once he was off them.

Lawrence peered his eyes open, his muscles felt heavy and stiff as he turned his head to look at the pale purple IV bag above him. The Hyperion doctors had explained that a small dosage of Eridium would accelerate the healing process, something about side effects was glossed over. Not that he had any choice in the matter, his body belonged to Jack, all rights waived long ago.

He'd been told by a thin Dr with a stiff smile that he was being discharged today yet was still required to take increasingly smaller dosages of the Eridium for another ten days.

Lawrence hadn't fully registered the room he was in, he knew he was someplace new but the drugs had practically held him immobile up to this point. Propping himself up on his arms he craned his neck to inspect his new surroundings. The walls were adorned with a rich wallpaper, that disinfectant hospital smell wasn't in the air and the quilt covers were decorated in a splashed yellow and black pattern. He must have been moved to an executive suite in the hospital as he was certainly not in the ICU anymore.

Lawrence let out a low sigh, more akin to a growl and run a hand along the bridge of his mask. He was forbidden to remove it, even if he was recovering in hospital. A grooved wooden door - unusual for Helios - with a detailed glass handle turned, Lawrence's hands dropped from the mask in time to witness the door swing open and reveal Handsome Jack.

Lawrence's blood turned to ice and the heart monitor beside him revealed his fright with consistent beeping. He drew his face up in a snarl before turning away, his cheeks were flushed red.

Jack just snorted at his reaction but remained in the doorway.

His employer had never come to visit, even when Lawrence was recovering from the burn on his face, so why was he here now?

"I needed to see my favourite double." Jack seemly read his mind and gave Lawrence a weak answer in return.

Lawrence couldn't identify the hitch in his tone, is he mad at me for getting shot? Most likely yes, Jack saw Lawrence's body as an extension of his own any scar or damage to it was damage to his propriety.

Jack lingered in the doorway and stared at Lawrence intently, there was an unmistakable glint in his eye that caused Lawrence's chest to tighten. Jack bared his teeth as he offered Lawrence a toothy smile before walking over to help himself up on the bed.

"How are you feeling" Jack queried flatly, his eyes trailed off Lawrence over to the purple IV bag above his bed.

"Good" he replied, his voice was as tight as his chest.

Lawrence hadn't seen Jack face-to-face in some time but his sharp features were still the same, always on the edge and just a moment away from revealing a maniac laugh or violent rage. Most of their conversations were through comms, there really wasn't much of a point to a double if they were in the same place at the same time.

"I've come to welcome you to your new home," Jack continued in the same flat tone.

Lawrence just let his mouth hang open as he stared back at Jack.

"Don't look like that, I don't wear expressions like that" Jack's voice somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

Lawrence shut his mouth, "Where am I being moved to?"

Opportunity? Right back where I was shot, just greeeaaaattt.

"You're already here pumpkin," Jack swept his arm towards the doorway.

This time Lawrence kept his jaw clamped shut but his eyes still widen in shock, was he going to be living in the hospital?

Jack propped himself off the bed and walked up to Lawrence's side with the IV. Lawrence hadn't been in close proximity to Jack for a long time, not since the wretched man had seared his face open. There was something different to his composure, Lawrence noticed his clothes were slightly more creased, that he wasn't wearing his cologne and his hair was more oily than usual. Jack looked like a man trying to maintain his upkeep whilst not sleeping in days. He may of been able to fool others, but it was Lawrence job to notice all the subtle changes in his composure, frankly, he looked like man unraveling. Curiosity bubbled up, what had him so run down? Lawrence didn't dare ask, among many other questions.

Jack ignored Lawrence's stare and moved firm hands towards Lawrence's arm. It took more effort than he'd cared to admit to not flinch from Jack's touch. With confident and swift movements Jack dislodged the IV and removed the heart monitor from his hand.

Despite holding back the previous retraction to Jack touch, Lawrence wasn't prepared for Jack to reach for his chest, this time he did jolt back into the pillows.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Lawrence mentally cursed for stuttering in front of Jack.

Jack just smirked at his reaction and Lawrence continued to fumble his words in protest as Jack reached for him. He pulled down Lawrence's grey tee to reveal the bandages against his collarbone. Jack's touch was gentle but Lawrence wasn't fooled, Jack's ability to switch between tenderness and rage was impeccable. Jack removed the bandages with care and discarded them to the side. Lawrence quickly caught on what Jack wanted to know and he bit down on his tongue and prayed the sniper wound had not left a scar; it had.

The tenderness in Jack was gone, his mask screwed up in a scowl and his voice dropped to the same low pitch he used when violence was about to occur.

"Look what they did us" he hissed.

Lawrence pushed further back into the pillow in surprise, those had not been the words he'd anticipated. If anything he'd expected Jack to go into a fit of rage, cursing at him for wounding his body.

It was Lawrence's turn to ignore the other man's gaze, he tucked his head as he attempted to see the mark on his neck. Unable to do so, he traced his fingers over the freshly healed wound; careful to avoid Jacks hand which still rested nearby.

Who had shot him? How had the security team failed? but Lawrence didn't dare press the matter. If any fault had fallen on him and he reminded Jack of it then it would send Jack into one of his blind rages. This quietly spoken enraged Jack was unnerving but it seemed to be fueled by the perpetrators and not him, so Lawrence didn't push his luck.

Lawrence slowly shifted his gaze towards Jack and his bi-colored eyes met his, Jack's face was void of warmth as his eyes bore into him. After some time his employer finally leaned away from the bed and Lawrence let out the tiniest sigh of relief as he reclaimed his personal space. Yet, a shudder overcame his spine and Lawrence felt his muscles ake and his stomach turn, most likely from Jacks unwanted attention, or so he thought.

"That's the Eridium leaving your system," Jack explained without an ounce of sympathy.

"Feels awful," Lawrence grumbled.

He rubbed his neck before another shiver racked his body, it felt like a hangover that had gone out of the ballpark.

"Get up and I'll show you how to administer your Eridium treatment."

Jack left him to his own devices as Lawrence heaved himself off the bed. Only to realise how vulnerable he was, dressed in a simple tee and sweatpants, Lawrence didn't feel the epitome of confidence. Lawrence stepped down on shaky legs before halting and stretching out, he didn't want Jack to witness him walking out in such a weakened state. Once he was comfortable he'd regained some control and strength he gingerly stepped towards the exit.

Lawrence was met with a long hallway, the walls decorated with paintings, the ground a thick plush black rug and warm low hanging lights lined the roof. This was certainly not the hospital ward. His eyes trailed down the hall, closed doors to every side, Lawrence tried to keep his breathing in sync but dread was taking over; where was he?

He could hear someone at the very end of the hallway - assuming it was Jack - Lawrence stalked towards the noise. Upon reaching the end of the hall he took a turn to the right and found himself in a shorter hall which opened up to a vast room. Jack was in the kitchen rummage through a freezer, Lawrence's heart raced as fast as his thoughts.

Was this Jack's apartment? Was this where he was going to be living?!

"I'm living with you!?" Lawrence blurted out.

Jack just snorted before replying, "Don't get too eager, no, you have your own apartment through there."

Jack waved a hand towards a pair of very large glass French doors, a smaller lounge or waiting room? Sat on the other side and beyond that another pair of French doors which revealed a room identical to the one he was standing in. Lawrence would later find out that they literally had mirror apartments adjoined down the center with the same entrance.

Lawrence took a few hesitant steps into the kitchen before walking towards the french doors. The living room beyond was vast, grand, everything was marble and covered in gold accents. A beautiful set of royal blue upholstered couches overlooked a sleek entertainment system, the kitchen had a wide island bench and Lawrence felt his heart flutter in excitement. A decent cooking space was the most important element to any kitchen, not that he had time to cook, but the thought still brought him some small joy.

Lawrence desperately wanted to know why he'd been moved here. He had perfectly acceptable quarters only a few levels below Jack, although nowhere near as grand as this and he certainly didn't have his own private medical room. Jack was humming as he rummaged through the kitchen and Lawrence took it as a sign that his mood had improved, rubbing his hands together he took the opportunity to ask a question or two.

"Why move me here?" He asked slowly.

"Cause Kiddo, to be perfectly honest you gave me quite the fright"

"What?"

Jack doesn't get scared, it must be all talk, an act.

"Nearly lost you down on Opportunity, can't have anything like that happening again." Lawrence could not dismiss the warning in his voice, so Jack is mad at me for getting shot.

"I figured here, I can keep a closer eye on you. Maybe you'll even learn something yourself, improve that heinous impersonation of me you do."

Lawrence crossed his arms, he couldn't help but retort back, "Fooled your workers and more importantly your assassins."

"Our assassin's," Jack correct, "it's just you and me now."

Woo, just us... and Nisha…and Wilhelm, all the people who I thoroughly enjoy spending time with.

Lawrence rubbed the back of his neck and held down the lump in his throat. Athena and Aurelia were long gone, even the damn claptrap had survived and buggered off. He wondered where Athena was now, had she made it back to Janey? Jack had gone on for days about assassination squad he sent after her.

"Before you run off and explore come over here," Jack called to him.

Lawrence turned and dragged his feet over to Jack, who had pulled out several vials of a very faint purple substance; Eridium.

"One every day for three days, then two thirds, one third, got it?"

Lawrence nodded and Jack pushed the vials towards him along with a syringe.

If his stomach wasn't already empty he was sure the contents of it would be all over Jack's bench. The long silver point of the needle burned into his mind as he turned away to heave in air.

"What is it?" Jack growled.

"Can't do needles" Lawrence groaned with his back still to Jack with his hands on his knees.

"Yes you can and you will" Jack spoke flatly.

Despite Jacks command, Lawrence was unable to administer the Eridium himself. On the third day, Jack caught him in his kitchen dispensing the vial into his cat mug before drinking it. Jack snarled at him and called him pathetic as he held Lawrence down on the bench and shove the needle into his arm -missing a few times- before landing in a vein.

* * *

By the end of the week, Lawrence concluded Jack had no concept of personal space.

Lawrence flew his eyes open and drew the gun he had strapped to the bedside table. With wide eyes, he stared back at the intruder in his bedroom; a shirtless Jack. His employer gave a bark of laughter as Lawrence hastily shoved the gun into his side drawer spewing apologies for nearly blasting his head off.

Jack had just emerged from his walk-in wardrobe and was fighting with Lawrence's yellow Hyperion jumper. Jack gave him no explanation as he fitted the jumper over his head and walked out of the room, leaving an even wider-eyed Lawrence in bed.

The entire encounter was surreal and Lawrence quickly learned this was not going to be an uncommon occurrence. Seeing Jack in such an exposed manner was akin to seeing your high school teacher for the first time at a bar, unquestionably uncomfortable but perhaps the start of an entirely new relationship.

He just prayed the madman would give him some moments of privacy.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Now that core intro to the story is set up I'll start to introduce a few flashback scenes. Expect these every couple of chapters.

For those who are reading this update by update and may of forgotten the time-line cues, this chapter is set just under a year and a half after Timothy started working for Jack. Thanks for reviews! Super appreciated :)

A03 Version if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	8. Chapter 8 - I'm Not Him

When he woke, the sun had finally broken and painted the landscape with a blush rose. The colour reminded him of a drink he'd preferred on Helios; lime, gin, and cranberries. Thoughts of sugary cocktails didn't linger long on Lawrence's mind as a burning pain crept upon him.

His head was heavy, every part of him ached, and his neck bent at a crude angle against the cracked window screen. He grunted as pain drove up his back from the stiffness, but it was short-lived. The pain from his arm was significantly worse, and it radiated everywhere, Lawrence let out a long groan as he shifted upright in his seat.

Lawrence glanced over to the passenger side, Angel was fast asleep. Her head buried in the surface of the seat, she hugged her shoulders in his Hyperion sweater, her knees to her chest and his baggy pants hung over her ankles. He'd hadn't noticed the nights cold, but frost was melting down the windows as the Sun claimed the day.

He tried to reach out to her but his shot arm would not permit it, so he had to rely on vocally waking her up.

"Angel, Hey!"

The girl shifted in the seat.

"When was the last time you had your medicine?"

"What?...I dunno hours ago, before you passed out," she replied slowly while wiping her eyes.

"You'll need another." Lawrence glanced around for the cooler-bag and found it at her feet.

"Why? I don't feel sick," she inched away from him as he pointed to the cooler-bag.

"You will soon enough," he grumbled in reply, "pass it here." Lawrence indicated again to the bag at her feet.

"No" she replied coolly.

"Angel, pass it here," Lawrence pressed, the pain and discomfort wore his patience thin.

"You promised you'd explain everything!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, when we get to the safe house," Lawrence reminded her.

"No that's not good enough! Why are we on Pandora? Why are we in a bandit truck! And why am I sick?!"

Her voice raised with every question she threw at him, leaving him no room to answer.

"And why do you have a cybernetic eye?" her tone somewhere between accusation and confusion.

"What?" Lawrence spat.

"Your eye, it's a cybernetic when did you get that," she replied flatly.

 _Oh fuck, that's right_. Jack had burned his face so severely he'd lost his left eye the entire thing had to be replaced. Jack had graciously 'allowed' him to replace it, while Jack had opted to have his a digital illusion on his mask.

Lawrence really didn't want to break the news to her that he wasn't Jack when they were in such a vulnerable and open place. At least at the safe house, he could keep her contained until she remembered on her own, but it seemed this moment was upon him sooner than he liked.

"I'm not Jack," Lawrence admitted his tone colder than he intended.

"What?! Of course, you are."

"I'm not your Dad," Lawrence just shrugged at her.

"Yes, you are. Dad, you're not wearing a cloaking device."

Lawrence sighed, "I'm not him, you don't remember yet, but you will."

She just screwed her face up at that, "If this is your idea of a Father and Daughter road trip then its terribly planned out."

"It's best we just drive."

The engine purred to life without resistance, Lawrence grunted as he leaned forward and was forced to use his shot arm to put the car into gear.

"And you still need to take an Eridium dosage," he asserted as they drove off from under the ledge they'd parked under.

"No," she replied coolly. Lawrence was facing forward, yet he could practically feel her mix-match eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

Lawrence just shrugged, "Fine, go without the Eridium then."

He turned to face her, Angel's eyes lost their glare and opened up in surprise, perhaps she wasn't used to winning arguments with Jack? Lawrence leaned further back into the seat and let out a long shallow sigh, his arm needed medical attention, or it would inevitably become infected. They were all out of health kits, and he couldn't stomach the thought of shooting up the Eridium.

 _You'd feel better, stronger even._

Lawrence groaned again as he shook his head to throw the temptation away. He was glad he had the foresight to make the girl carry the bag.

"We're not far," he spoke before silence took them both.

* * *

"I think we may be in range to get some music in this thing," he shifted the car tuner slowly in an attempt to find a channel that didn't emit static, "What do you want to listen to kiddo?"

He called over the roaring engine, Angel didn't reply.

"Angel?" Lawrence took his eyes off the road to look over at his traveling companion. She was hunched up in the same position as before, yet this time she slowly rocked to the truck's movement, and shivers racked her body.

 _Great._

Lawrence's eyes darted back to the road, they were so close. The safe house was no more than a few kilometers away. He couldn't stop, this was fierce bandit country, and they'd be sitting ducks if the truck decided to stall on them. Lawrence pushed the rig on, its bullet hole exterior howling as the wind blew over it.

He was there, he could see the cactus that was shaped in a perfect trident. The truck screeched to a stop and dirt kicked up around them. The bent door was embedded into the car from when he had forcibly shut it, Lawrence lifted his knee and gave it a few good kicks to see it free. He fell forward when the door finally gave, and his face kissed the dirt below. He lifted himself up with his good arm and raced over to the passenger side and pulled the door open, with the cooler-bag over his shoulder he slid his arms under the hunched up girl.

 _Not far now._

The cactus's prickly form blocked the entrance to a narrow path that ran up the cliff side. Lawrence knew there was no way he was getting past it with the girl in his arms and prepared himself for the incoming shock it would bring when he scraped past. He gritted his teeth as its thrones dug into his coat catching his skin. Once safely behind the security of the cactus, he paced as fast as he could manage. The path was incredibly narrow, and only a few stone steps succeeded to make the journey easier. He took the final corner and came to a copper door, with great difficulty he inputted the security code and the door graciously opened to let them slide in.

He was met with utter darkness and Lawrence ensured his feet skimmed the ground to prevent himself from tripping on anything. His shin hit what he recognised as the bed, and he lowered the girl down. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he sought out the generator, with a few good tugs (with his good arm) they were welcomed with light and power.  
Lawrence sped back to Angel's side and took the syringe and a bottle of Eridium out. He filled the entire capsule before delivering the dosage to her. The effects were immediate, and she began to stir on top of the faded linen sheets.

"You can't skip a dosage" he grumbled to her sleepy disposition.

She stirred restlessly over the covers before opening her eyes to meet his gaze. Her features did not yield their usual softness. Instead, her brow was knitted together, and her eyes had that wild glint that Jack possessed.

Lawrence picked himself up, ignoring the hateful glare he was receiving. He opted to check the main door instead of inquiring why she suddenly was so displeased.

 _Eh, getting Eridium shoved into you would piss anyone off._

Confident the door was secure Lawrence returned to pull down the med-kit from the shelf. He propped himself up on the table and carefully removed his jacket and shirt to get a clear look at the wound. His shirt clung to the dried blood, and he winced as he had to tug it free. Using a disinfectant cloth, he cleaned the wound before looking away to jam the needle in. The health-kit oozed into his skin, and he could already feel the itching sensation as the red substance began to stitch him back together. The aches from his long car ride slowly melted away, and for a brief moment, he felt bliss wash over him.

As he relaxed on his tabletop, he peered across the room to check everything was in order. His safe house was a very narrow single room that was hidden in between two rock faces upon a hilltop. It composed of a single bed, fridge and a table. Shelving lined all the walls, filled with more cans of food and arsenal. A spare echo-comm, multiple maps of the area, binoculars and a few other travel items were tossed across the table. Lawrence's attention returned back to the echo-comm and then to his own.

Lawrence was confident the hack he'd embedded into his comm prevented Jack from tracking him, but it didn't stop Jack from calling. He'd abandon his post and surely Jack new the fate of Nisha by now? Lawrence gnawed on his tongue, why hadn't Jack called? Had he forgotten about him?

 _No, probably too busy with his new Siren. That's all._

Angel's feet touched down on the concrete dragging Lawrence's eyes back to her. She sat up, and her eyes were darting to every corner of the room.

"Had me worried for a moment," he called over to her yet, she remained unresponsive.

Her vivid blue and green eyes settled on him, and her jaw clenched tight.

"Angel?"

"You…" she heaved a hiss through clenched teeth, her eyes were void of warmth.

"What?" Lawrence's tilted his head and heaved himself off the table.

Angel stood up from the bed with her hands grasped tight and knees bent.

"You did this," she eyed him, and contempt was slick in her voice.

Lawrence took a few steps back away from the enraged Siren as her arm lit up through the jumper. Her tattoos emitted flecks of light through the well worn yellow material, they blurred as she shook with rage.

He raised two hands up in self-defense, "Angel, whats wrong?"

Angel drove her hand forward and tensed tight, the tattoos were a vivid white now, and it momentarily blinded Lawrence. That was before the pain kicked in. Lawrence roared in agony as his left eye burned from within its socket his vision went red.

"So how did you get that cybernetic eye? Dad," her voice was barely audible but distinctly cold and hollow.

"Angel what the hell?!"

"It's not all hardware, a complex thing like that needs software to function," she drawled as Lawrence's eye continued to burn. "Did you forget what I can do?!"

"Angel he burnt away my real eye!" Lawrence desperately tried to explain.

"I remember everything," she hissed "You had me chained up like a dog, pumping me with Eridium to fuel your damn precious key. One vault wasn't enough, I wasn't enough! You needed more!" She seethed with anger and Lawrence clutched at his pale green eye as it rolled uncontrollably in its socket.

"Angel! I'm not Jack! Remember I told you! I'm not him!" Lawrence's voice was going hoarse as he pleaded with her to remember. His hand rested on the table to support himself, the burning in his eye rendered him weak.

"We fled the bunker because the Vault Hunters found me! They tried to save me! But you wouldn't let them! You just couldn't let me go!"

"Angel, I'm sorry! I'm not him!"

"Carting me around, pumping me full of the Eridium so I can still charge your key!"

"I was trying to-"

"Enough!"

She thrust her hand forward, and the pain reached a new limit. Lawrence couldn't stand anymore, and with rasped breathing, he lowered himself to the floor. Angel paused for a moment before she threw the door open and rushed out into the Pandora sun.  
Lawrence jerked his head up to see the door closing behind her.

"Angel!" he called after her.

He heaved himself up of the floor, his healing arm protested to the weight being forced on it. He stumbled forward before shaking his head to set his vision straight. He raised a hand to hover over his eye, he could move it, and the sensation of looking around was still there, but everything was black like it had been disconnected from his brain.

He should've known her memories would have eventually come back, he'd hope he'd have more time to ease the girl into it.

Lawrence grimaced as his remaining eye met the harsh Pandoran sun, he raised a hand to shadow his view.

"Angel!" He tried one last time.

"I'm not him! I'm not your Dad, ok? I didn't do those things to you!"

But his call was left unanswered.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Angel standing up for herself gives me life.

As always comments are very much appreciated, thanks to those who have left one so far, you are the best! Reminder: this story hasn't been beta read, don't hesitate to point out mistakes/typos. It's my first fic, so still lots of learning to do!

A03 Version if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	9. Chapter 9 - Trio of AI

**NOTE: A 'cycle' is a term I've coined for this fic. It refers to 24hrs, as a Pandora day is something like 90+ hours.**

* * *

Lawrence laid patiently on the ground, a well worn woven matt protected him from the dirt, and a scarf covered the back of his neck to shield him from the sun. Both hands firmly grasped his sniper, and with his working eye, he watched the gorge below. Two cycles had passed since Angel had run off, if she was as stubborn as her father then she wouldn't be returning anytime soon. He hoped she came to her senses before she died from exposure.

She'll come back.

Lawrence's eye caught movement, and he readjusted his sniper, only to see two skags fighting it out. The alpha tore down a runt and devoured its corpse with little effort. Bored with the blood show he switched his attention back to the bandit camp on the horizon. It was the very encampment Nisha, and he had cleared out almost a year ago. Jack had sent them on some crusade to hunt more parts for the Gortys project, yet all they found was screaming meatheads and bullets piercing their shields.

That battle had been anything but swift and clean, they'd taken a beating, but they conquered in the end. The bandits may have had the numbers, but they outgun them and out skilled them. He remembered the high from battle and them both cursing Jack for missing out on the fun, the bloodshed, and then...

Lawrence felt his cheeks flush at an afterthought, he dismissed it as the sun burning his face.

A shrill call from his Echo snapped him away from shameful thoughts.

Most likely Angel calling to apologise and wanting to return; hopefully. Without looking at the device Lawrence slammed a hand down on the comm, he expected Angel's soft voice requesting to return. Instead, he got her Dad.

"Sup princess, where you at?" Jack's spoke in light and casual manner which caught Lawrence off-guard.

"Sniper practice," Lawrence answered honestly.

"Hmmmm, kay," Jack replied in an incredulous tone, "put me through to one of the Digi-Jacks, I want to chat face-to-face."

Nisha's consistent pestering regarding Jack's lack of battle experience resulted in Jack making a few upgrades to his watch. Lawrence could patch Jack in, allowing him to fill in as one of the digi-structs all while safe up in Helios. It wasn't precisely what Nisha had in mind, yet it soothed her temper whenever Lawrence could call Jack for her on the battlefield. There was no way in hell he was going to summon them now.

Lawrence sighed with mild exasperation and removed his eye from the scope. He glanced down at his arm, a faint tan mark from where his watch was worn was stamped onto his left wrist. He'd not worn the watch for some time, Lawrence grounded his teeth, at the thought of seeing the digi-jacks, but the judgment was quickly shaken away.

No, Nyx and Crake are not Jack.

"You there Timtams?" Jack queried, annoyance crept into his voice.

"Can't really talk right now," Lawrence replied flatly.

"Great," Jack seethed, "Well, you're gonna talk, see the funny thing is that, I sent Nisha to come get ya, but you know she seems to be off the grid as well."

"Get this, the last guy she was seen with was ME!?" Jack exclaimed the tremor in his voice was unmistakable.

"But it couldn't have been me as I've been up here grieving over the death of my daughter who you failed to protect."

"Seeing as Angel is dead I thought I'd take a leave of absence," Lawrence replied.

"Don't you ever say her name, goddammit, don't you dare. Damn, I'm going to enjoy ripping your lungs out," Jack's voice remained taunt with an impending rage.

"See that's exactly what I thought you'd say," Lawrence drawled, "so, how about you calm down a bit and check in with me when you're ready to not kill me?"

"Timtam, did you actually kill my girlfriend?" Jack was barely audible, if he spoke any louder, he'd overflow the dam and sweep the world away in his rage. "Cause honestly, that's kinda pissing me off," he continued, voice scratchy with emotion.

here it comes, Lawrence rolled his eyes before prepping his lie to Jack, "she betrayed us," Lawrence asserted.

"YOU KILLED! MY! GIRLFRIEND!"

The dam broke.

"YOU SHOT HER IN THE GODDAMN FACE!? WHY?! THE FUCK! DID YOU SHOOT HER IN THE FUCKING FACE?! WHY-"

The conversation was over, once Jack was on his rampage there was no point arguing. Lawrence put the echo-comm on mute and let the other man vent his outrage in silence.

With another heavy sigh, Lawrence rolled over on his matt and look up at the Highlands sky. He closed his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, it was silent. Taking him out of that tranquillity was his echo, it vibrated against the gravel. Lawrence reached over and held it up against the sun, shading his face so he could read the notifications.

JACK: did you put me on mute?!

JACK: YOU GODDAMN SHIT, YOU DID!

JACK: TIM!?

Lawrence tossed it to the side, he'd deal with Jack later.

Lawrence raised his arm to give his working eye a break from blinding light. His gaze focused on his wrist, and the absent digi-struct watch. Lawrence's eyes narrowed as he considered his two digital companions, had they miss him? They hadn't seen him in months. After Jack sent him to the Bunker he'd been so furious, he couldn't stand the sight of another Jack and had kept his watch locked away in his gear-chip.

Lawrence moved his arm down and propped himself up on his elbows, his shot arm tinged with a dull throb as his weight was pushed onto it. Once sitting comfortably upright he accessed his gear-chip and retrieved the watch, its cold metal surface fell into his waiting hand. Before he could change his mind, Lawrence swiped the watch's interface with his thumb.

Pixel's erupted from the watch, purple at first until the two colours separated to form a younger magenta and cyan Jack.

"Sir?" the magenta badass spoke his tone as flat as the expression he gave him, "everything ok?"

"Ah, yeah."

Crake's magenta arms crossed as he considered Lawrence for a moment, "why are you on the ground?"

"Oh, sunbaking?"

Nyx, the cyan Jack, snorted, "need us to rub oil on your back, or would that be all boss?"

Nyx turned away from Lawrence; however, Lawrence didn't need to see Nyx's face to know the cyan Jack was irritated.

"Look, I'm sorry I haven't called on you both...in some time," Lawrence admitted.

"It's been five months, twelve days, 6 hours-" Crake attempted to inform him before Lawrence cut him off.

"Ok! I got the point!"

"Sooooooooo, how's it been?" Lawrence queried them.

"We cease to exist when we're in the watch, so nothing has 'been,'" Crake asserted.

"Ok, I'm sorry!" Lawrence blurted out to them both.

"Things between Jack and I got a little complicated. I spent some time alone and honestly, was just too pissed to see you both, ok?"

Nyx subsequently turned back to face him a wide smirk on his face, "sorry to hear, did your boyfriend find a hotter double?"

"Fuck off Nyx," Lawrence replied without any malice.

Crake just rolled his eyes.

Nyx most closely resembled Jack pre-helios's attack, maybe even pre-second wife? His sass levels were god awful high, and he had the attitude to match, but his tendency for cruelty was lessened. Lawrence was just glad Crake didn't follow suit in the sass department, the magenta hologram was characterised by Jack's older personality traits; more informative and hostile. He could become quite a handful in the heat of battle, sometimes he didn't know when to quit.

The roar of an engine drew Lawrence's attention away from the two digital Jack's. The bandit truck - recognisable by the sound - passed on below, dust kicked up forming an orange cloud, Lawrence clenched his eye shut as the wind blew the dirt overhead. The truck had a trailer attached to the back, if you could call it that, it was a bunch of chains attached to a metal sheet. The trailer caused sparks to fly when it made contact with the odd rock or two, but that wasn't what caught Lawrence's attention, it was the Destroyer chained on top of it.

Lawrence rolled over and brought his scope to his eye, he followed the truck as it reached the bandit camp ahead. Bare chests, masks, and cheering excuses for humans crawled from the compound like ants.

Like flies to the dead, the bandits ran towards the Destroyer to claim a piece. Lawrence watched a bandit dig a crowbar under the Destroyers metal skin, turning it, so it now faced Lawrence.

The red eye of Felicity stared back, the Destroyer was still alive.

Lawrence threw himself to his feet, only to take a few sickly steps back from the edge of the cliff. He dismantled his sniper and flung it over his shoulder and called to his digital companions.

He knew some part of the AI he'd met on Elpis was still in there. With that knowledge, he couldn't let her be torn apart by the savages below.

"Fancy a rescue mission, that may or may not involve killing a lot of Bandits?"

Both of the digital Jacks looked at one another in unison, before turning their attention to Lawrence.

"Sure, sir."

"Only if it involves killing bandits" Nyx grudgingly accepted.

"Oh, I think it will."

* * *

Lawrence kept as low as he could, the sand dunes provided decent cover. However, the bandit camp was on a hill embedded in the cliffside. Their position gave the bandits the upper hand, but Lawrence would have the upper hand, he had his cloaking device.

Or so he thought, Lawrence, cursed when he remember Angel had run off with it.

"Nyx I need you to make a decent distraction on the west end of the camp, Crake will provide cover for you."

"What kind of distraction?" Nyx gave Lawrence a sly wink.

"The kind that distracts bandits; guns, and fire. Sorry but, dressing in drag and doing the hula isn't going to cut it."

Nyx gave Lawrence an exaggerated pitiful look. Crake appeared ready to slap some sense into his digital brother. Yet, they both wordlessly raced away in a burst of pixels. Lawrence prepared to follow suit, he would need to wait until the fire fighting started before making his intrepid dash towards the camp's entrance.

Nyx gave a shrill and eye-rolling call to the bandits, "oh boys!"

That got them started; fire and gunpowder exploded into the wind.

Lawrence leapt down from his cover, his shield took a few hits though he kept moving. The bandit's gate and the tower would provide him with protection, he stormed forward and threw his back against the reinforced wall. Confident that no guards would be able to shoot him from above Lawrence turned and threw a grenade against the gate. It exploded with all the power a Hyperion grenade could offer, splinters and shrapnel were thrown out from the entrance, Lawrence leaned into the wall as far as he could to protect himself from the sharp onslaught of the shattered gate.

Satisfied his path was clear he turned the corner and took his first kill. The bandits head split-in-two, blood painted the trucks behind the collapsed man. Another one screamed, but it was cut shot as Lawrence caught his head with a well-aimed shot.

He dove for cover when a sizable foe emerged forward, his back leaned against the mangled frame of a truck. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the giant approaching, Lawrence peeped under the wheels and saw the bandit's feet were stained with oil. He rested on his chest and fired. The bandit lit up and ran forward, only to take another soul with him.

This was far easier than he could possibly hope for.

A shot rattled his shield, but their bullets were useless against it, he fired back before the bandit could even reload.

Sweat downed his brow, and his shirt was soaked through, Lawrence removed his bomber jacket and stashed into his gear-chip. He waited patiently against the truck, his ears itching to hear another noise, someone else to calm; but the silence ensured.

Satisfied his work was done he strode out from his cover, bodies lined the ground, but they didn't matter. He reloaded his gun before he searched the corpses for anything of value; nothing. Lawrence glanced at his watch, Nyx and Crake must have returned during the chaos as the timer revealed they were recharging within.

A low hum drew his attention away from his wrist, the Destroyer was meekly calling to him.

"Felicity!" he called as he moved into a jog to reach her.

The Destroyer could no longer hover, and half of her yellow plating had been removed, yet she was alive. The bot gave a long deep buzz upon seeing him, she struggled to regain airborne.

"No, don't worry about that. I'll get you fixed up," Lawrence huffed, still a little out of breath from the recent firefight.

Lawrence ran a hand down her side. She was damaged severely, but with the right tools he was confident, he could restore her. He knelt down beside her, so the red glow of her eye was upon him, he chuckled and pointed to his single eye.

"Look, we're the same now, I've only gone one eye too."

She beeped in response.

"Yeah, had a run in with Jack daughter, she's a Siren, did you know that?" Lawrence continued his one-sided conversation with the bot. He lodged a disconnected wire back into its socket, with her plating removed everything was vulnerable to the elements.

"I'm going to get you airborne, so I can get you back to my place, then we'll see about fixing you up," Lawrence explained.

The beep that responded was a high pitch.

Lawrence ran his hand down her side as he found her hoverboard circuit. The plating that had protected it was ripped apart, and most of the wiring was dislodge.

"This may take some time. Can you digi-struct toolkit 1.35."

The bot shook for a moment, blue particles burst forward and soon after a toolbox dropped to the ground in front of her.

"Thanks. I'm sorry about this."

Lawrence got to work, reconnecting what was frayed and wielding back what was shattered. She wasn't in too bad of shape considering, the bandits must have wanted her parts in a functioning state.

Lawrence stood up satisfied with his handy work, "Ok Felicity see is you can get up for me."

The bot beeped in reply, before rebooting her hover system. A low hum thundered below her as the gravitation field was activated. A high pitched beep echoed around the camp as she lifted herself a few inches from the ground. Not as high as she could go in her fully functional state, but enough to get her back to his safe house.

"Brilliant, let's get you home," Lawrence beamed.

"How do you know her real name," a disembodied voice called.

Lawrence sprang to his feet, face flushed red with the realisation his conversation hadn't been private. His eyes darted around the camp for the source of the intruder. He raised his gun - thankfully - he held back from firing as Angel emerged behind a bloodstained truck.

"Angel?" Lawrence blurted out, face still sheepishly red.

Her sudden appearance and in a bandit camp no less was not what Lawrence had anticipated. His eyes scanned about him, abruptly becoming aware of the bodies that littered the ground.

"How do you know Felicity?" She queried him again, her voice quiet yet stern.

"I um… have known her for some time," Lawrence's reply was awkward, he couldn't' fathom that Jacks Siren daughter was standing in a blood-soaked bandit camp.

"Jack never called her that," she spoke absentmindedly as she cautiously approached the side of the Destroyer. "To him, she was Destroyer 5.46"

Curiosity washed over him, forgetting the surprise of her reappearance, "how do you know her name?"

"We used to talk together," Angel replied gravely.

"What?" Lawrence's eyes widened as he looked from the Felicity to Angel.

The bot gave a low hum in agreement.

"I thought my dad had programmed in her personality, someone for me to talk with over the network. I immediately realised he'd never do anything so personally with a war machine."

Lawrence's hand was still resting on the side of Felicity.

"Felicity used to be much more than this…" Lawrence solemnly admitted.

Agnel responded cooly, "I suspected as much. There is substantial unexplained data in her code, data that alludes to a far higher intelligence that a war machine."

"Your Dad and I found her on Elpis. Then we… moved her into this." The words escaped his mouth so quickly Lawrence hadn't realised how badly he needed to confess.

I should've left his service on that day.

"You really aren't him, are you," she spoke softly as her eyes lingered over him.

"I'm not Jack."

He'd spoken those words earlier, but this time the confession seemed more real, a sickening feeling rose in his chest from the admission. Lawrence rubbed the side of his collarbone to extradite the tension.

"We should talk," was all she had to say and Lawrence nodded in agreement and Felicity beeped.

* * *

"So who are you?"

Angel's round face glanced up at him, as Lawrence zipped open the Eridium cooler-bag.

"Lawrence," he replied flatly.

Angel returned a silent glare, evidently not satisfied with his answer.

They'd made it back to his safe house in one piece, Felicity had hovered at the back moving slowly across the sandy hillsides and Angel had lingered close to her side. The giant bot protected her from the elements. However, Lawrence suspected Angel sought the Destroyers presence over his own. He wasn't at all surprised, he resembled the man who had imprisoned her.

Trust was all but vacant on Pandora, especially between those who barely had anything to gain from one another. Getting the girl to open up was going to require patience, something he lacked after embodying Jack for so long.

Her weary steps could have been from exhaustion or caution, maybe both. She'd spent two cycles alone in Pandora, without food or water, she must have some darn good luck. However, now they were safely guarded by walls and a roof, Angel was recovering with a bottle of water in hand and Lawrence was getting ready to administer her another dosage or Eridium.

Her bright eyes rested on his, she was still waiting on answers to her first question.

Lawrence rubbed his collarbone, "I'm your Dad's double, but proper double, I don't have a clocking device to look like him. I was...ah, surgically altered."

"Surgically?" she raised a single brow.

"Well that and some gene modifications, they had to change my hair colour and get rid of my freckles."

Lawrence ran a hand through his hair, he knew it should be a copper colour, but he'd long forgotten how it looked like on him.

"He never told me about you," Angel spoke quietly as she fidgeted with his Hyperion sweater. "He used to tell me everything."

Lawrence just shrugged and gave an apathetic reply, "very few people knew I existed. To everyone I was Jack."

Angel's face remained dissatisfied, her lips screwed up as she contemplated his words.

"I should've known, the scar on your face isn't blue like his," her eyes traced the mark across his face.

"Yeah, Jack did regret that. Said he should have had it tattooed...after he'd burned in the mark."

Her eyes widened at the casual tone he took to being disfigured.

"We can probably dilute this down now with some water, or a health-kit, what do you think?" Lawrence questioned, as he swung the syringe forward, Angel gave a slow nod.

Lawrence stood up from the stool he'd been occupying to find his med box. His movements were sluggish, three cycles of the Pandora sun turned his safe house into a miniature sauna. He was tempted to strip his shirt, but reason told him that wasn't the best idea.

"Why did you save me?" Angels voice was quiet as if she hoped he wouldn't hear her question.

Lawrence stretched up to retrieve the med box from the shelf when he turned back around she was relentlessly tearing at the sleeves of his jumper. Lawrence bit his top lip, he had no experience with children, let alone teenagers. He figured honesty was the best course forward, even if it did nothing to soothe her nerves.

"Everyone thought you were dead," Lawrence looked her in the eye, "even Jack."

Angel continued to tear at the sleeves. Lawrence pulled out a health-kit and drew the red substance into the other syringe. He tossed the liquid back in forth in the chamber, so the two materials blended to a deep burgundy.

Lawrence let out a sigh, he was exhausted, and the heat did nothing to abate his fatigue.

"I just...saw the opportunity," he reasoned, "that's all."

Angel's eyes broke with his to stare at the floor, her shoulders were hunched in, as if to shrink and hide.

"So does that mean you don't work for him anymore?" She asked quietly.

"Yes," Lawrence lied, he genuinely didn't know.

Lawrence stepped towards the Siren who was meekly waiting on the cot. He stood in front of her and waited for her to admit him into her presence. She rolled up her left sleeve and held out her arm for him. He was swift as didn't want to linger too close to her, the needle was in and out before she could blink.

"All done," he gave her a curt smile.

"So what are you planning to do with me?" Angel pushed her tone to be frimer, yet she could not relinquish her timid approach.

Lawrence quickly adapted, he softened his temper and stepped back to keep his distance. "With you? Nothing. I was thinking of taking you to the Vault Hunters. If you'd like that."

He honestly hadn't thought this far ahead. Save the girl was the plan. Then maybe use her powers to get off this planet? Or trade her with the Vault hunters for a ship? Lawrence bit his tongue at the last thought.

Angel leaned forward, her brow creased together, Lawrence couldn't tell if she was in disbelief or annoyed.

"Why?" She probed.

"I thought that's what you'd want?" Lawrence replied slowly, he was unable to get a read on her. "Unless you want to leave?"

Angel didn't respond. Instead, she rubbed at her arm where the injection site was.

"Ok, but what do you want?" She leaned back upright, evoking more energy than before.

"Ah?"

Angel crossed her arms and leaned back into the wall beside the cot.

"No one does anything on Pandora without a price Mr Lawrence," caution coated her voice, as she eyed him carefully.

"ah, Just Lawrence," he grounded his teeth, before admitting the catch, "get me off this planet, and I'll get you to the Vault Hunters."

She'd finally finished toying with her sleeves and now it appeared another person was sitting in front of him. As if discussing terms inspired some courage into her.

"It's a deal," she nodded, tone firm.

Angel raised her left hand to shake his, and he awkwardly met it with his left.

"Left-handed? Should have told me to inject your other arm," his tone light as he gave her a short smile.

She just shrugged, "guess I'm not used to actually...doing things…"

Lawrence had nothing to say to that.

He ran a hand down the side of his face, exhaustion was clinging to his mind. His hand traced his cybernetic eye, he figured now was as good a time as any to ask for his sight back.

"Well, now that we're on more familiar terms, think you can restore my sight?"

"Oh...sure," despite her weariness she agreed.

Her right hand was thrown forward, and her arm lit up through the jumper. Lawrence grimaced as he felt a tingling sensation run through his veins, everything seemed to emit static before his vision flickered back.

"My thanks," he replied gingerly, still rubbing his temple.

Lawrence checked his digi-struct watch, "this cycle is nearly over, the sun may still be out, but it's time each of us got some rest."

"But-"

Lawrence cut her off, "I'm sure you have many questions, and I'll answer them after I've rested. I don't know if Sirens need sleep, but I do."

"We do," she grumbled back before her eyes darted around the very tiny room, Lawrence chimed in before she could ask.

"I'll take the floor, and I'm sure Felicity can stand guard."

The bot had remained silent during the entire exchange. However, she gave a high pitch beep as if to affirm she was still aware.

Angel nodded and began to curl back in on her self. Confidence seemed to be drawn out of her quicker than she gained it.

Lawrence let out a short groan as he relaxed against the opposing wall. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, his recent venture in retrieving Felicity had worn him thin.

This rescue work was a tiresome business. He just hoped their journey to Sanctuary was swift and painless.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

I hoped you enjoyed the long chapter! How are you finding it? This was really tricky to write, there were so many things Angel and Tim could have discussed. Hopefully, I got the pacing and their characterisation just right. please let me know in a review/comment x

Also, Lion Kin reference :p

A03 Version, if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	10. Chapter 10 - Promises are Worth Shit

Lawrence had graciously allowed her to sleep on the bed while he'd used a flattened cardboard box and pile of clothes as a substitute for a mattress. Angel fidgeted in the cot, sleep wearing thin on her consciousness. This man, this doppelganger of her Dad was an enigma she couldn't solve, never had Angel been in a position where she couldn't find out everything she wanted about a person. He'd given her his spare echo-comm before bed, but with strong words of caution on how and what she should use it for. Most of that had been ignored, Angel knew how to silently browse the net and not leave a trace.

Yet, the echo-net had yielded no answers for her, whoever this Lawrence had been before, his history was wiped clean from Hyperion's databases, probably from the entire network.

 _Lawrence can't be his actual name. If I knew his real name maybe I'd have more luck,_ she mused.

As promised, the not-jack had 'answered' her questions. However, the answers he did provide were mediocre at best.

 _Why did you become Jack's double?_

 _Money._

 _Why were you at The Bunker?_

 _Guarding you._

 _So, it was you, the person at the Bunker who I was communicating with?_

 _Yes._

 _You were never very friendly._

 _He shrugged._

 _Did you know who I was?_

 _Only that you were a Siren._

 _What really made you leave Jack?_

 _He remained silent._

It was like talking to a wall, a very disgruntled brick wall, who appeared to be more taken with machines and guns than the living companion in the room with him.

Her memories of the last few cycles were hazy at best after she'd fled from the man who she mistook as Jack, she'd sought shelter around the other side of the hill. She hadn't strayed more than a few hundred metres. She'd waited, hoping for a chance to steal supplies before fleeing for good. But as the Pandora sun had worn down on her and as her body had slowly succumbed to the elements the memories seemed to resurface.

He wasn't Jack.

She waited for a chance to observe him, to be sure. When he'd fled to rescue what she'd soon realised was Felicity she knew he wasn't her Dad.

Angels fists screwed up into tiny little bunches, thoughts of Jack racked her body with a sickening rage. The memories were crawling back to her, like bugs over her mind she shivered to throw them off her.

 _"I've pumped every fricken ounce of Eridium I've got into you,"_ Jacks words rang through her mind, _"WHY ISN'T IT WORKING!?"_

 _"I'm sorry, I don't know..."_ She'd pleaded with him to no avail. She'd begged him to know what happened to her mum, to understand why she needed to be in the 'chair' and why he was doing this to her. Nothing ever got through to him.

 _"You're a damn Siren, one of a kind! MAKE IT WORK"_

She was a Siren and a tool to him, not a daughter and certainly not human.

Angel felt the intoxicating warmth of energy run down her arm, her powers were bubbling forward. There was too much tech in the room, too many instruments for her powers to harness. Her mind raced over all the items, two echo-coms, the Destroyer, a digi-struct item, the cloaking device, gear-chips, countless guns and arsenal. It was too much.

 _I won't lose control._

Angel rolled over in her cot, she needed to focus her mind away from the devices in the room. Her arm ached at the injection site, so she let her mind register the pain. Her body still cried out for more Eridium, but those were thoughts that also needed to be suppressed.

Lawrence was tinkering away with Felicity's interface, his back to her and he was speaking low to the bot. Spying and investigating was all she'd done for the last ten or eight years, and so she couldn't help but eavesdrop on his private conversation.

"When Jack found out I'd been scavenging part of your old code he threw a fit," Lawrence explained as he swiped a hand down the interface in front of him. The bot gave a low hum that Angel interpreted as a worried acknowledgement.

"Smart thing you did, scrambling parts of your code at the end of your files and spreading them thin across all the Destroyers."

The bot beeped.

"If Jack ever realised how extensive it was he'd have rewritten you from the ground up. He was too short-sighted, always under-estimating AI," Lawrence trailed off.

"You're right," Angel chimed in, without thinking.

Lawrence's head snapped over his shoulder, and he responded with a cool gaze, "you're awake," he acknowledged flatly.

Angel pressed her lips thin, she wasn't used to people being aware of her prying.

"What happened after Jack found out about you trying to restore her?" she questioned.

Lawrence didn't reply. Instead, he lifted himself off the floor to make for the fridge and pulled out a beer. A waste of valuable space and resources she thought.

"He destroyed what I was working on, that's all," he used the edge of his watch to pry the lid off the bottle.

Angel knew enough to know that wasn't 'all', but she didn't contend the matter.

"I could help you," she offered, "I used to talk with Felicity, and I noticed the same thing. That she was trying to rebuild herself. I never told Jack," she quickly explained as Lawrence had given her a firm look.

"How much do you know?" Lawrence's voice was low. His tone made the crawling sensation on her skin return.

Angel tugged at her yellow sleeves again, these face-to-face encounters were so much...more, than communicating through a screen. To have someone look you in the eye was unnerving, and new for her.

"Not enough for a complete picture. I...I wanted someone to talk with...So I thought if I put her back together we could be friends."

It had been one rejection after another in her life. The worst of it was her step-mother, who fled the moment she discovered who and what Angel really was. But Felicity, she'd understand, she'd know what it was like to forced into a role that you couldn't free yourself from, Felicity could be there when others hadn't. Or so Angel had prayed, she never got the chance for the AI to become part of her life.

Lawrence gazed down at her, he crossed his arms as he considered her words.

"So...how did this restoration project of yours go? Jack destroyed every I had worked on years ago."

"I was almost done, but when Jacks demands became too much, I had to sideline her," Angel admitted.

"So this code you were collecting, do you think you could access it?"

"It lays in my old server, which is back at the Control Core. It's not connected to any network, so it was impossible for others to hack or reach it. That's where I stored all my research for Jack and other projects for myself," Angel explained with a shallow sigh. "Jack would visit and collect it... until he had you do it for him," she couldn't withhold the accusation in her tone.

"Right" Lawrence drawled, uninterested in the slight accusation.

"I'm going back," he asserted

* * *

"What?! No! But Jack?" the girl all but screamed at him. He'd seen accounting interns with more bite than her.

"I can handle Jack, he won't kill me, hurt me maybe, but Jack doesn't like losing things that are his," Lawrence insisted.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," she replied coldly before fear retook her, "But you can't go back!" she implored.

The holes in his sweater we large enough to shove an arm through, she'd worn the material so thin he was sure it was going to tear at the elbows.

"If he… realises I'm still alive...I-I can't go back to that place!" Angel threw her self off the cot onto her feet.

"Promise me you won't go back to the bunker!" Her hands reached for his and Lawrence instinctively took a step back.

"Going back there is a fate worse than death." Angel cried at him, a tinge of guilt stirred within him.

His eyes were drawn to her left arm, which was beginning to shine through the thin yellow material. Lawrence saw the interfaces on his Echo, and the guns on the walls light up. Angel rocked forward, her arms desperately scraping at him to respond.

"Please Lawrence!"' Her nails dug into his folded arms. His echo began to emit static, images of the bunker, purple crystals, wires flashed across its screen.

"Promise me!" her eyes were wide, tears welled in the corners.

Lawrence looked her in the eye and held a firm hand to her shoulder, "Ok, I promise," he asserted, "I won't go back to the Bunker."

However, Angel didn't know his promises were worth skag-shit. Tomorrow he'd set out and return to the bunker with or without her help.

 _Sorry, kiddo._

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

As this is a short chapter, I'll make two updates this week.

Also first Angel POV. There will be a few of these throughout the story (as well as Jack).

Thanks for the kind comments and the kudos, please let me know what you think x

A03 Version, if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	11. Chapter 11 - Becoming Jack Part II

**NOTE:** Reminder that Handsome Jack is human garbage #standardwarningforhandsomejackbeinghandsomejack #eyetrauma

* * *

Lawrence grudgingly admitted that Jack could sometimes be 'ok'.

Despite the admission, Lawrence nevertheless found himself racked with shakes and sweat every time Jack came home. He prayed the man would go straight to his apartment, that Jack would forget the evening debriefings they shared. However, Jack would find him without fail every time.

Existing beside Jack was like being wrapped in barb wire, sharp appendages were inches away from lashes out. As long as Lawrence didn't struggle and played house-pet, then he wouldn't get hurt.

Work was still the same, Lawrence would go to Pandora and complete missions and oversee the construction of Opportunity while Jack would bark orders at him through his comm. The real change being, they now came home together, and for the first time, they regularly saw each other face-to-face. Jack would belitter him for not meeting his standards, or critique his Jack impersonation, Lawrence would stand still, mumble 'yes, sir' over and over until he'd waited out the storm that was Jack's rage and then the two would go to their separate ways.

It had been two months or so since he'd moved in and Lawrence's impersonation of Jack was perfected every day. Living with the man gave him adequate time to observe Jack's traits, his stance, and vocabulary (as limited as it seemed to be sometimes). Jack provided his insights on how Lawrence should look and talk, although Lawrence often found they missed the mark. Jack couldn't see past his ego; he was nothing more than a maniac wrapped up in a fine body.

Despite everything, Lawrence eventually convinced Meg - Jack's secretary - that he was the real Jack for the first time. A triumph which surprisingly pleased Lawrence, yet Jack only dismissed it.

 _'Convince Nisha, and then I'd be impressed,''_ Jack had quipped.

Lawrence couldn't possibly fathom deceiving the Lawbringer, he could talk the talk, but when it came down to it, he couldn't follow through with some of Jack's more hostile deeds.

Their apartments were fully equipped each with their own, gym, spa, a generously sized kitchen and pantry, a living and a rarely used dining room, medical room, two offices, three bedrooms each with ensuites and walk-in wardrobes, and a storage room for arsenal. There was no need to cross over to the other occupant's apartment, and Lawrence wouldn't dare intrude onto Jack's space. However, Jack evidently didn't feel the same way and would regularly come over and eat pasta all over Lawrence's lounge. This was one of those occasions.

Jack was sprawled out on the furniture his face deep in spaghetti as he flicked through the channels on Lawrence's holo-screen. Lawrence, on the other hand, had only just returned from work and was fixing himself a drink in the kitchen. Scotch over ice, two cubes to be exact, just how Jack had it. He enquired if Jack wanted one, Jack replied with a delayed 'no' before returning to devouring his meal.

Lawrence let out a soft sigh before turning his attention to dinner. It was late, and the Hyperion kitchens would have closed by now. Even though they had their personal chef, Lawrence nevertheless felt it was easy enough to through some pasta together and cooking always soothed his nerves. Jack lofting around in his living room was akin to a predator approaching a little too close for comfort.

He decided to follow Jacks example and indulge in pasta. He was usually on strict no carbs diet, but he honestly couldn't lower his fat to muscle ratio anymore. Even his personal trainer said he could take a break, Lawrence just hoped that message was passed onto the real Jack. Lawrence figured it was worth the risk.

Lawrence was halfway slicing up chorizo when Jack interrupted his routine.

"Make enouff for twoo," Jack spoke with his mouth full and with spaghetti still in his bowl.

Lawrence rolled his eyes, the man had the metabolism of a badass skag.

"Sure" Lawrence replied in a nonchalant tone which aimed to mock Jack's enthusiasm for food. He'd already anticipated Jack would steal his meal and he'd prepped enough ingredients for two.

"Thanks, Handsome" Jack cheered as he returned to whatever terrible reality tv show he'd settled on. Lawrence grounded his teeth, the 'thanks' at the end was almost genuine.

With the pasta on boil and the capers and chorizo sizzling away Lawrence had a moment to sit down and enjoy his drink. He approached the couch to maneuver around Jack and sit on the other seat across the room, yet, Jack lifted his legs up indicating Lawrence could sit beside him. A first, but Jack was never a man protective of his personal space. Lawrence reluctantly obliged and sat down, and Jack threw his feet back down on top of him with more effort than needed.

You couldn't call this intimacy nor a friendly fondness, no, Jack just loved to rile Lawrence up by encouraging him to forfeit his space. Lawrence did not reveal the discomfort he had towards the man who only six months ago seared half his face off. He bit the top of his lip and hid the action behind his glass as he took another sip.

Lawrence half expected jack to poke him with his feet, to promote more discomfort from him, but his employer seemed to be too engrossed in his drama. Apparently, a girl was screaming about her hair straightener being broken. The salty, savoury smell of pork was welcomed by his senses as it wafted to the living room, combined with the smokiness of the scotch and the comfort of the couch he could almost say he was content. A first in what seemed like ages.

The first time Jack had intruded like this Lawrence spent the entire night fumbling his words, stuttering, terrified he'd upset the madman and send him into a frenzy. Jack had laughed throughout the whole affair, thoroughly enjoying Lawrence's distress. With every visit Lawrence's confidence spiked, and soon he was firing retorts back at his employer, even tolerating his presence; as he was now.

Despite all of this, Lawrence wasn't a fool; he knew Jack was paranoid to the core. With the unexpected departure of both Athena and Aurelia, Jack's attention on Lawrence had spiked, like a dog with a bone. Jack could claim that Lawrence was living here so that he was safe, or that he could improve his impersonation, or that he couldn't run off. Whatever the original reason was; it didn't matter.

Lawrence had come to the smug conclusion that Jack was bloody lonely, that much was evident from his continued intrusions. Besides Nisha, the man had no one, and Lawrence suspected he'd been moved in to fill the space when his lover wasn't around.

Jack would never admit it, and Lawrence wouldn't dare press the issue, but Handsome Jack had no allies, no one to confide with, no friends, and it seemed he was keen on making Lawrence one of them.

And for the time being, Lawrence was okay with that; he may as well keep his enemies close. As deranged and as volatile as the weather Jack may be, Lawrence was beginning to adapt to the swings and could predict when the storm was coming. He just had to wait it out.

Lawrence could have willingly spent the evening on the couch watching the shitting drama with his psychopath housemate, but the moment was short-lived.

The door to their shared entrance chimed indicating the arrival of another. Both men looked at each of quizzically. Lawrence leaned back on the couch and peered over his shoulder, his chest tightened along with his grip on the tumbler as Nisha stalked around the common room entrance.

Her golden eyes darted across the common area her hands on her hips as she sought out her lover. Lawrence turned back around, not at all keen to call her over and figured she'd discover where they were soon enough. Not surprisingly Nisha swung open the French doors and gave Lawrence a bitter smile.

She was dressed smart - a sharp contrast to her Pandora gear - a deep navy velvet dress only just hung from her shoulders. Gold chains decorated the top, and a wide split revealed her toned dark legs. Lawrence shoved his drink in front of his features to hide whatever expression his face was making. The ice from the scotch abated the hot flush on his cheeks.

"Where is Jack?" she spoke in a low command much akin to her lover's voice, yet she trailed off as her eyes lingered from Lawrence down to Jack embedded body on the couch.

She raised a thin brow, "forgot I was visiting?"

"Of course not!" Jack contested, Lawrence recognised the lie.

Jack abruptly swung his feet off Lawrence lap, taking his drink with it.

Lawrence swore, and Jack scolded him.

"Just a moment babe," Jack waltz up to his significant other and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, before tossing what remained of his pasta into Lawrence's sink.

Nisha had Jack hook, line and sinker; and Lawrence unquestionably knew why. She was cruel to the bone, ravished in Jack's violent tendencies and had the body of a damn goddess.

Lawrence drifted back to the kitchen to clean away the scotch from the front of his shirt. Usually, he'd just take the damn thing off, but Nisha was staring at him like the hawk she was. He refused to meet her gaze, and this apparently irritated her as she strummed her long nails against the doorway.

Jack could be tolerable on his own. Honestly, he was just a big kid living in a frat house with too much money, too much power with a lot of anger problems. But when Nisha came into the picture? He'd become his true monstrous self; she seemed to radiate some kind of negative energy that fueled him to be at his absolute worst. Lawrence squeezed the running water out of his shirt; his knuckles went white.

Lawrence wished they'd hurry up and leave

Satisfied he'd gotten the drink out of his shirt, he let the damp material fall back onto his chest. When Lawrence looked up, Nisha was still eyeing him with that look only a predator could wield.

Lawrence promptly ignored her and turned to the stove to remove the heat from the pasta. He picked up the large pot, with the intention of taking it to the sink to drain, however sharp nails dug into his upper arm causing him to shake it and spray boiling water all over his arm. The pot crashed to the floor, and Lawrence swore as its contents washed down his legs.

Nisha's nails dug in like talons, and her golden eyes bore into him.

"It seems you and Jack have gotten quite comfortable together," she mused.

"That's good," her tone did not at all indicate that she thought everything was ' _good_ '.

Lawrence's back stiffened, and he dug his nails into his palms to distract himself from the burning pain on his soaked leg.

"You think I don't know what you're doing," accusation and contempt dripped from her voice.

"Um...no?"

She stalked forward, and Lawrence embarrassingly took a step back, his shoulders hit the raised oven door.

"You'll never replace him," she snarled.

Lawrence gave her a wide smirk, some sudden rush of courage - probably the absence of Jack - fired him up to retort back.

"Don't you mean, I'll never replace you?" Lawrence sneered as he towered over her.

She struck him.

Before he could swing a punch back, she threw him against the oven door cracking the glass. Her nails hooked onto his shirt and torn it downwards revealing his scarred chest. Her sharp eyes rested on the sniper scar above his collarbone.

"A nice mark, a reminder for me to know who you really are," she spat.

Lawrence shoved her away, "your boyfriend is waiting," he growled as he jerked his head over her shoulder.

"Aww, you made the kitten upset" Jack cooed from the doorway as he fixed a sleek tie around his neck. The rest of him was suited up in black, pointed shoes and white dress shirt.

Nisha just scoffed, "he'll cope."

"Don't be mean Nisha," Jack straightened his collar, "he's one of us now." There was a warning in his voice, directed to him, that Lawrence couldn't ignore.

Lawrence anticipated for them both to talk towards him. So they could have some fun before they departed, thankfully Jack pulled his hand forward and indicated for Nisha to reach for it. She sauntered over to Jack and he moved the hand around her waist.

"You behave yourself **_Jack_** ," Jack called to him as the two of them strode away.

Lawrence looked at the mess in his sink to the mess on the floor. Time to wake up that chef after all.

* * *

The 'honeymoon' period had to come to an end at some point.

Lawrence returned from covering a Maliwan meeting for Jack, which had gone smoothly but he was well overdue for a drink. Thankfully Jack hadn't cut alcohol from his diet, Lawrence had just passed his thirty-sixth birthday - not that anyone knew or cared - and his metabolism was going to give out eventually.

Lawrence let his mind wander back to the top shelf scotch Jack kept importing for the two of them. One of the _'many'_ examples of ' _how well_ ' Jack took care of him. Lawrence knawed on his tongue as Jacks words radiated through his mind.

The glass doors to his side of the floor were open, Lawrence entered his apartment expecting to encounter a Jack on his couch or rummaging through his cupboards for food. The living room was empty, Lawrence called out, but he met only silence. Jack had mostly likely visited and just left the doors wide open.

Lawrence was half way through fixing his drink when Jack stalked down his hall.

"Oh, so you are here," Lawrence announced without looking up.

Jack strode past him and continued over to the French doors from where Lawrence had just entered. Jack jerked his head towards someone, and Lawrence's heart tore through his chest as two loaders returned back with Jack.

Lawrence opened his mouth to gain some answers, but Jack barked at him first.

"Explain this," Jack threw down a sleek, thin black rectangle onto the kitchen bench, which Lawrence recognised as his private server, which up to this point had remained tapped to the back of a painting.

"That's…" Lawrence's words left him as he stared at the black sever, a year's worth of code was on that device; Felicity's code.

Lawrence had discovered traces of her hidden away in amongst the bots she constructed, at first they appeared to be random; ghosts of the machine. However, as Lawrence discovered more and more the larger picture came to be, it was Felicity. She was rebuilding herself, keeping herself hidden, unmistakably she feared for her 'life'. Hyperion would wipe her again if they got wind of her existence. Lawrence had taken upon himself to start salvaging the code.

He rubbed his thumbs into the inside of his palms, already slick with sweat.

"Don't bother explaining, I've already read everything on it," Jack drawled.

"It was encrypted," Lawrence grounded.

"Please," Jack smiled at him, but Lawrence was no fool. A mountain of fury was behind those masked features.

"So what were you planning to do with this champ?"

Lawrence bit his tongue; no words would convince Jack that his actions were justified. He fought the urge to duck and hide behind the bench which kept them separated.

"Don't bore me with silence."

"I-I was trying to bring Felicity back. Just working...on a few projects," Lawrence started, voice wavering between fear and assertiveness.

"Need I remind you what happened when we last saw the AI? It tried to kill us kiddo," Jack's voice was gravelly and scratched at Lawrence's ears.

Jacks hands toyed with the small black sever.

"Don't do this Jack, we could bring her back," Lawrence implored.

"It's cute that you think I'll take your advice on the matter."

And with that Jack snapped the device in half, destroying Felicity a second time.

Lawrence's hands turned into fists, and his spine shook with a rage he didn't know he possessed. Jack tilted his head, eyes narrow as he considered his double.

"There's that look again," Jack observed slowly.

"What?" Lawrence spat.

"You gave me that exact look after all that happened," Jack's hand gestured to scars that lay behind Lawrence's mask.

"Can't imagine why," Lawrence sneered.

His fury fueled his courage to fire back, "have you ever seen it yet? What you did," Lawrence hissed.

"You know what? I haven't had a good look at it!" Jack beamed and waved a hand for the two loaders to approach.

Jack gave another wordless command, and the loaders obeyed. The larger of the two fixed rough metal 'hands' onto Lawrence's shoulders and pressed him down to his knees. Lawrence groaned through gritted teeth as Jack's security held him in place. Vivid images of his visit to Jack's office swam to the forefront of his mind. Jack's hand snagged him by the chin, and their blue and pale-green eyes met.

"Let's see," Jack's voice was silvery but tainted with a ferocity that made Lawrence's hands clench even tighter.

Jack gently placed his hands on the side of Lawrence's head, and with a few light flicks, the mask was removed.

"Damn that is a handsome mug," Jack glowed, "too bad for the whole vault punching thing."

Lawrence refused to turn away.

"Let me ask you something, do you even know what I burned your face?"

Lawrence bit down and swallowed whatever witty remark was on the tip of his tongue. Lawrence would not give Jack the satisfaction; he won't answer Jack's pointless rhetorical questions. Silence always angered Jack, normally Lawrence would do anything to diminish this storm, but not this time.

"You're doing the silence thing again," Jack seethed.

"I wanted you to stop it with the flaccid hero act. I wanted you to stop staring at me with that grave inducing stare of yours," Jack's hand waved to the side of Lawrence's face, "see, you're doing it right now!"

Jack sighed with exasperation, "Goddammit, you obviously didn't learn the first time."

Lawrence kept his face fixed on Jack, no matter what Jack had planned for him, he wouldn't beg this time.

"I can't mess up that gorgeous body of yours, not again. Honestly, the first time was really hard for me."

Lawrence's heart raced, and his blood rushed in a fury, hard on you?!

"So let's see...what to do..." Jack clicked his tongue, "Ah here we go!"

Jack digitised a health-kit from his gear chip and swung the long needle back and forth. Deliberately making sure it caught Lawrence's eye. He pressed his index finger down and emptied the syringe against Lawrence's knees. Sweat trickled down Lawrence's spine, his eyes never leaving the large needle bestowed in Jack's firm grasp.

"You hold him down, and you hold his face, he cannot move," Jack stressed to the two loaders.

Jack bent down and propped himself up on one knee and rested both hands on top of Lawrence's shoulders, the syringe leaned to the side of Lawrence's face.

 _I won't beg.  
_  
"Is he still?" Jack's voice low as he queried the two guards, they replied with short beeps.

"I need you to listen very carefully, but before that, I'm going to make sure I have your attention."

Jack gave Lawrence a toothy grin, "damn your left eye is ghastly white, so it can't be that one," Jack whispered to himself.

 _I won't beg.  
_  
Jack's hand readjusted Lawrence's face, so his blue eye was in line with the madman, "if you move, it's on you," Jack muttered.

 _I won't beg. I won't beg. I won't do it._

Jack raised his hand and lined the point of the needle up to Lawrence's eye. Lawrence's stomach turned, a sick sense of relation crept over him. The sweat that had run down his back had drenched him, and his hands dug so deep into his palms he could feel the sweat sting the cuts. Oh god, the silver point of the needle divided what limited vision he had left. He couldn't grasp how close the tip of the needle was, but every part of him screamed for it to move away.

"Careful now," Jack spoke to himself as he pressed the eye of the needle into his cornea, and Lawrence screamed through a clamped shut jaw.

"Are you listening to me?" Jack's was voice low and dripping with venom.

Lawrence failed to reply, and whatever had suppressed Jack's rage finally snapped.

"ARE YOU!?" Jack roared into Lawrence's face, the needle jittered from the clamour.

Lawrence screamed through his teeth, the needle jabbed at something it should have, and his vision was stained red. Lawrence didn't dare move, not even to open his mouth to speak, and so he let out a short whimper in reply.

"Good, now we can talk," Jack almost cheered but his grip on the needle and the back of Lawrence's neck did not falter.

Jack pulled him closer, penetrating the needle further into his eye socket.

"You're too important to me, too expensive and bloody too much of a hassle to replace, you understand don't you?"

Jacks nails dug into the back of Lawrence's neck; he knew it drew blood as the sweat stung the cuts.

"You're far too precious to me."

Jack attached himself to Lawrence as if he was about to lose him in that very moment.

"So, I don't want you investing your time and energy into any more of these little side projects."

Tears were welling in the corner of Lawrence's working eye.

"Distract yourself again with these pointless endeavours, and I'll pay Mrs Lawrence or Miss Springs a personal visit. You know what? I'll go see both of them. But I won't shove a needle down their eyes, no it'll be an ice pick. Never performed a lobotomy, but there's always a first, right?"

Lawrence swallowed down the fist-sized lump in his throat and gave another whimper as an excuse for a 'yes.'

"Who are you?" Jack closed the last distance between them and whispered into Lawrence's ear. The needle dug around at a crude angle.

Lawrence let a whimper escape his lips. He didn't want to open his mouth, what if moving his jaw caused the needle to move?

"Who are you?" Jack began to shake with rage, Lawrence yelped as the pressure from the needle dug deeper into his eye.

"Jack! I'm Jack, I'm Handsome Jack" Lawrence yelled and with that Jack slid the needle out of his eye the pressure and discomfort released him.

"Thatta boy," and Jack slapped a hand on Lawrence's shoulder, but he didn't pull away.

Lawrence barely heard him his hands hovered over his blue eye tracing along his brow and cheekbone. Too scared to touch the socket.

Jack snorted, "It's fine, no damage done."

Jack words of 'comfort' did nothing, the tears rocketed down Lawrence's face, he wanted to lean forward and curl up on the floor, but all he met was Jack's chest. A deep sob escaped him, which he immediately regretted, Jack doesn't cry, Jack will punish him for this.

"Come on now, stop that" Jack cooed, but his voice was still dangerously low.

Jack moved his hand from Lawrence's shoulder and wrapped it down his back and pressed him forward. Jack's thumb pressed into his spine and traced up and down the bone. Lawrence remained on his knees a crumbled mess; he wanted to flee.

Lawrence pried his eyes open his head embedded in the recess of Jacks' neck. He spied the discarded needle on the floor. He could grab it, tear it into Jack's neck, the man would bleed out in under a minute.

Jack whispered something like 'precious', or 'perfect' into his ear as he held him. Lawrence had nowhere to go, and so the thought of murder left him with another sob.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Jack is the worst housemate. Next update; Tim makes more poor life choices and Angel meets the digi-Jacks.

Thanks to the new followers, please let me know how you're finding the story! And special thanks to scottusa1 who's left a review on every chapter, you're the best!

A03 Version, if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	12. Chapter 12 - DO NOT FOLLOW

_'Say hello to your new home, darling. You're like a little princess, and this is your throne!'_

The little girl cried and pushed herself further into her Dad's arms. She just wanted to be held, she just wanted to go home. Her fragile frame shook as she begged, _'I want mommy. Where's mommy?'_

 _'She's not coming back, Angel. Now get in the freaking chair!'_ the monster snapped at her.

The girl continued to sob, she scraped at the arms of the man she thought was her Dad, but her struggle meant nothing to him. She was strapped into the cold confines of the metal chair, and something latched to the side of her head.

The little girl screamed and begged.

Angel watched on, horrified, she couldn't do anything. Every time she tried to pry the girl free Jack would storm in and latch Angel into the same device. But it never stopped her, she raced forward to free the child.

Now Angel was begging, Jack tried to soothe her with words while he pressed the wires into her skull. She and the little girl were trapped, bound to the chair, encased in darkness.

Jack only laughed.

* * *

Angel screamed into the side of her pillow, her fists were grasped tight, and her nails dug into her palms. The memories tried to linger, to hold her back in that dark place her mind took her when she slept. She released her fingers from their clenched state only to dig them into the sheets, something to ground her to this reality.

Jack was here, he was here with her now.

Angle threw herself up from the bed, fear clawed against her heart, her knuckles were white from gripping the sheets around her. No...No, wait it's not him. Jack isn't here. He may look like him...and sometimes act like him, but it's not him.

 _Could it be a trick?_

 _No, Lawrence's scar isn't blue. Jack's scar is blue._

 _Could he have found a way?_

 _No, Lawrence saved Felicity he said he wanted to help her. Definitely not Jack._

Angel groaned and fell back into the pillow, she was becoming as paranoid as Jack. Was it a family curse? But she couldn't let herself succumb to her emotions, to fear, losing control would draw attention. If her powers got caught up in the echo transmitter, she could accidentally send out a beacon, it would only take one small signal and then the real Jack could find her. She closed her eyes and curled back up, at least she had the comfort of a real bed. Angel buried herself in the sheets, begging for a dreamless sleep to take her. Yet, the adrenaline from her nightmare made that impossible, and so she focused her mind on the wall in front of her. She studied the pockets of rust, the way the walls dug in and out. Lawrence's safe house was an old Hyperion shipping container; dark and windowless. How it ended up on top of a hill embedded between two peaks was beyond her. Maybe he moonshot it down? How much of this escape was plan ahead? Did he always intend to leave Jack?

Angel wanted to know, she always needed answers. Releasing herself from the bedding she rolled over and leaned her head off the cot to face her travelling companion, yet, she discovered his 'bed' empty.

She shot up and scanned the container, she checked every corner, a pointless endeavour.

He was gone.

Angel reverted her attention to the empty bed on the floor. A crudely written note in a scrawl she recognised as Jack's handwriting laid on top of the pillow - a pile of clothes - and alongside it the cloaking device, and another watch with a teal face. Gingerly she slipped off the bed and reached for the note.

 _Gone back to the Bunker, DO NOT FOLLOW. Call me on the echo-comm when you're awake.  
\- Lawrence_

Angel swore loudly, only to snap her mouth shut.

' _Language_ ', she thought of her Dad's words.

"He's gone," Angel spoke out loud, only for no one to hear.

Angel chewed on her lip as she approached the Destroyer. Felicity took up the entire entrance, the container was designed to moonshot destroyers down, not house a human. Angel climbed over Lawrence's makeshift bed and placed her hand forward, the tattoos on her arm lit up. She hoped the bot could tell her when he left, Lawrence would have had to have climbed over her just to get out.

Felicity was silent, Angel peaked under the Destroyer and saw that her circuit board had been ripped out.

This time she swore louder. Lawrence had silenced Felicity.

She couldn't have slept long, maybe she could still catch him? Angel grabbed her echo, the cloaking device and watch. She crouched down on her hands and knees and crawled under the small space between Felicity and the walls. The container door was heavy and not precisely designed to be opened from the inside after some lifting, Angel pried the latch open. She tried to ignore how exhausted she felt from the slight exertion.

It may have been early morning in the cycle, yet the Pandora sun was long gone. Darkness would accompany her for another forty or so hours. Making her search for him futile in the dark. Still, she paced up to the edge of the cliff, only for her heart to sink as she made out the tire track marks of the bandit truck below.

A sickening chill swept over her, _you stupid girl, you trusted him?_

Angel cursed her naivety, how could have she willingly make a deal with this man? Angel clutched at the frayed remains of her sleeves. How long did he intend to leave her? Did she have enough Eridium? What about food? Water? What if bandits came? What if Jack came for her?!

How could he leave her!?

Angel dropped to the ground and hugged her knees. She pressed her face into her arms and let a dry sob escape her. Angel was free, yet more terrified than she'd ever been. She was not equipped to survive on her own. Dread crawled over her, it scratched at her mind, slithered over her body like a serpent intent on consuming her.

Images of wires, cords and black appendages swept across her mind. She may have escaped her chamber, yet she might as well be trapped. This other-jack had her at his mercy. Angel didn't know if it was vertigo from being so high up or her anxiety, yet she fell back on her palms. Her hands scraped against the gravel, and another sob left her.

Angel's arm lit up, fear was the culprit.

Without the assistance of her 'chair', she couldn't' control her powers. The wires against her mind had allowed her to be tapped into one system at a time. But here in the open, she was surrounded by technology, there were too many things to harness. She could feel the systems from the safehouse firing up, the echo and the watches in her pockets coming alive. She prayed the rocket launches on Lawrence's shelves were all analog. If she lost control, she could take the entire building down.

She needed to get out of here.

The light blinded her vision, what was once hidden in shadows was now obscured by the beam of her arm. Her hands scraped again against the rocky mountainside as she flung herself to her feet. Angel had only sprinted a few times in her life, and It didn't take long for her legs to feel like battery acid, but she pushed on. She needed to be far away from any software. She focused on the echo on her belt.

 _I need to be in one system. Just one system._

She read the lines of Hyperphire over and over, she let her mind escape into the network. She attempted to ignore the guns on the wall, the watches in her pocket.

 _I can't lose control_

She ran until she was at the base of the hill and sought her refuge against the cliffside. This was where she'd hidden from Lawrence, it was a crack deep enough to curl up in. It was too small for an adult or even spiderants, yet inside this dirty, sharp, dark fissure was where she felt safe.

Angel hugged her knees and waited for the moment to pass.

Her mind was contained to the echo-comm, and the rest of her body functioned on instinct. Angel latched onto Lawrence, anger stirred in her.

He left her! How could he possibly think that was a sensible thing to do! Angel wanted to scream at him. Tell him what an idiot he was.

Unknowingly, she was about to have that chance.

"Angel?" Jack's voice spoke from underneath her.

Angel's anger fluttered away, panic beat against her chest upon hearing Jack's voice.

 _It isn't him_ , she reasoned.

She'd been so tapped into the device that her thoughts alone had called Lawrence. She pulled the echo out from beneath her and held it up to her knees.

"Lawrence," she tried to administer a stern voice, but it didn't quite hit the mark.

"Everything ok?"

"Yes," Angel lied.

"Ok..." He paused. Angel suspected he saw through her lie. "I'm nearly at the Bunker," he continued.

They may have only just met, but the abandonment stung all the same. Angel clutched the echo tighter.

"So, before you go off," Lawrence scolded. Angel screwed her face up, she didn't like his tone one bit.

"Just know that I promised myself a long time ago I'd bring Felicity back." He replied in a tone far firmer than anything she could muster.

"I'll be back by the end of the Cycle," Lawrence concluded.

Angel had a lot to say to that, but when the pause in the conversation came for her to reply. The words escaped her. Jack didn't like it when she talked back.

"I need to fix things with Felicity. You wouldn't understand."

I might if you'd spoken to me, is what she would have said, but who knew how he would react if she snapped at him. Did he have Jack's temper? Angel bit her lip until it hurt. She wanted to know so badly. Why didn't he talk to her! How could he leave her in the dark? Literally.

The line was quiet for a while. While Jack would never stop talking, Lawrence prefered silence.

"What are you planning to do," Angel asked quietly.

"I'm getting your servers."

"Right."

Lawrence sighed, "You'll be fine on your own, you survived during the Pandora day for two cycles, this will be a breeze." Lawrence did not radiate confidence and Angel hadn't precisely chosen to be abandoned this time.

"Ok," she replied, ignoring his words of encouragement.

Lawrence responded in silence again.

"What if Jack comes for me while you're gone?" Angel dug her feet into the dirt in an attempt to bury herself further into the hollow.

"There's no stopping Jack if he discovers you're alive."

Angel swallowed down a firm lump in her throat before Lawrence continued, "but if anyone else comes calling you've got the clocking device and if things go really south you've to go Crake and Nyx to look after you."

Who and who now?

"The wristwatch, not the pocket watch. Honestly, why did Jack make me wear two watches? Anyway, it usually activates to my thumb swipe, but for you I have a code, enter '09 12152205 251521.'

Angel frowned at Lawrence's unexpected ramble. Confirming once again he only talked when it regarded anything but her. Angel drew out the scrunched up note and the wristwatch she'd shoved into her oversized pants. The teal interface caught the moonlight and flashed a soft hue across the walls of her little hidey-hole.

"That's a needlessly long password," she criticised.

However, Angel only needed to rest her palm on the watch, and as her arm lit up, she entered the code through her consciousness. The watch emitted a brilliant purple flash before the two light waves separated to reveal a red and blue hologram.

Angel scrambled back as far as the crack in the cliff permitted her, eyes wide in horror as she set sights on not one, but two versions of her Dad. The nightmare was real, he was here. Angel curled up on herself, a scream left her, the tattoos flickered to life and then she lost control.

All the devices in the surrounding area connected to her. The echo-comm by her side emitted static, sparks singed the edges of her jumper. Smoke made her eyes water, and her tattoos blinded her from her surroundings. She fumbled her hands across the ground and found the comm, she controlled her shaking only for a moment to throw it as far away as she could. Something cracked loudly, burnt minerals and metal reached her nose. The presence of the clocking device left her conscious. However, her powers weren't finished, and they latched onto the next piece of software available; the watch.

The two holograms yelled something at her, she picked up the wristwatch and threw it near the echo-comm and then she ran. She had to get it away from the devices, or they would meet the same fate as the clocking device. Angel risked looking over her shoulder to see the two holograms had reappeared next to the watch. The red one stood beside it, nudging the ground with his foot the blue one continued to yell at her.

Angel ran until she felt the last of the devices leave her mind. The energy the Siren powers granted her left in a wave of exhaustion. Using them to such a degree without the assistance of her chair left her like a candle that had burned throughout the night.

"HAVE YOU FINISHED FREAKING OUT?" Jack called to her.

Angel spun around, the red Jack had his hands on his hips the other, the blue Jack who had supposedly called to her before, yelled again "WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?!"

They were not the same, Angel concluded. Red one and Blue two seemed to act independently from another. Was Jack controlling only one of them? Even from the considerable distance, Angel kept between them, she could still detect Jacks mannerism in them. The way they stood, Red one had his shoulders squared, arms crossed a display of Jacks temper and authority. While Blue two was kicking at the ground like a side-lined child, encasing Jacks one other emotion; impatience.

They hadn't tried to reach her, so they must be bound to the watch. Maybe if she waited, they would go away. Something had to be charging them, she reasoned.

"HEY COME ON! YOU GONNA LEAVE US OUT HERE?" blue two called again.

The blue two kicked at a rock, only for the ground to remain untouched. Red one shrugged his shoulders and spoke to his hologram counterpart, Angel couldn't hear what was being said.

"TI-...ah...LAWRENCE TOLD US TO LOOK AFTER YOU!" blue two yelled. "SO EVERYTHING IS COOL, YOU CAN COME BACK NOW."

Lawrence? They were taking orders from him and not Jack. Angel crouched to the ground, surrounding herself with shrubs. As if hiding herself from view would cause them to forget she was there. Angel gazed down at her arm, the tattoos had faded to a faint glow. The Eridium in her system didn't permit them to go completely out. If the two Jacks tried anything, she could scramble their code. Yet, if Jack was really controlling one of the holograms wouldn't he have moonshot something down to get her by now?

Angel had asked herself too many questions for her curiosity to stand. She stood up, the moonlight caught the light of the discarded echo-comm and watch. Red one and Blue two emitted a soft hue to the surrounding area. She prayed their yelling and light source didn't attract any locals. Angel took her first step towards the two holograms, her eyes trailed off their faces to the holstered guns against their waists. Could they actually fire a weapon? They were holograms, right? Unanswered questions gnawed at her mind.

There was only one way to find her answers. She wouldn't let Jack succumb her to fear.

"Shussh it, she's coming over," Blue two hissed to Red one.

Now that she was closer, the way Blue one spoke wasn't precisely Jack-like; his words were soft, it was odd. Blue one spoke as if he had caught a deer in his headlights, that if he spoke too aggressively, the dear would flee into oncoming traffic. Angel was still a good ten metres away from them, but not near enough to access the comm. She would have to move closer if she wanted to reach its code. Angel kept her stance wide, ready to sprint if it came to it. Only a few metres closer and she could access the watch and disable the two Jacks, or destroy them entirely.

"My...my echo, can I have it back?" all thoughts of courage were carried away as if the night's breeze had stolen them. Angel bit her tongue at her stammering, but she didn't repeat the request.

Blue two kicked the echo-comm with his foot which travelled right through the device. A crude way to validate his point, but not unlike Jack.

"Sorry kiddo, can't pick it up for you."

Angel's chest tightened at the use of the pet name. 'Kiddo', she despised the word. It had once been a name just for her, from her Dad to his baby girl. It used to mean something. She took in a long breath to diminish the tightness clinging inside her.

"You'll have to come get it yourself," Red one commanded, his voice hitched at the right moment as if to mock her.

Angel instinctively stepped back so fast that it took a while for her mind to catch up with her legs.

"Fucking hell Crake, way to sound sinister. I don't even want to come near you when you speak like that," Blue two threw a digital hand in front of Red one as he cursed.

Jack didn't swear, at least not in front of her.

Red one just shrugged, "well its the truth," he reasoned.

Angel wasn't close enough to take in all their features, especially seeing as they were partially transparent. However, there was enough to know they were younger than the real Jack, or human Jack. She took a few cautious steps forward, closing the gap between them. They were much younger, as they weren't wearing the mask, and their faces were absent of scars.

Angel took another step.

"We don't bite," said Red one. The admission did nothing to encourage Angel to step closer.

"Oh, will you shut it, you like radiate hostility! Creepy unwelcoming hostility," Blue two yelled, but his tone was relaxed, and he even chuckled afterwards.

Red one opened his mouth to counter, but whatever was said was cut out. He flickered in and out of existence, Blue two quickly followed suit. He tried to call to Angel, but his words kept cutting out.

"F-CK, J-ice is all gon-.

Static consumed them.

"Whatev- ha-pen dra-ed t- batt-, se- y- lat- kid-"

And with that, they both vanished with a burst of pixels.

Angel felt a long breath of air escape her lungs, who knew how long she'd held that captive. She glanced down at her hands, her knuckles were pale from being clenched into tiny fists. Slowly she let her shoulders relax, and straighten her knees. No long bent and parted ready to sprint at a moments notice. As she unwound, the silence of the night crept over her. She was very much alone in the middle of the Pandora night.

Angel stepped hesitantly towards the echo-comm and the wristwatch. Picking them up she could see there was no exterior damage. However, she'd have to check them over for software corruption once she was back inside the safe house.

She hugged her arms as she wandered back to the container.

* * *

"Oh yeah, should've probbbaaaabbbly mentioned they look like Jack," Lawrence spoke from the echo-comm.

"One would have thought that was an important note to mention," Angel growled, she wasn't sure if Lawrence heard her as he didn't respond to her comment.

She was safe inside the container once again. With her Siren powers, all exerted it was less likely she'd blow the place up.

"What happened when you called them? The line went dead," Lawrence asked.

"I accidentally disconnected it," she lied through gritted teeth. She couldn't reveal what happened. What would Lawrence do with her if he found out how unstable her powers could be? There was also the issue of the cloaking device. Angel's moment of loss control had completely fired the hardware and scrambled the code.

Angel was a terrible liar. If Lawrence saw through it, he gave nothing away. Lawrence, on the other hand, had proven himself as an excellent liar, his promise not to leave her was evidence of that.

Another point for Lawrence in the Jack-like category.

"Look, I can tell...you're a little concerned about the two 'Jacks'", Lawrence stressed her Dad's name.

Angel wanted to retort back, yell at him for leaving her alone with them, but Lawrence was on a ramble, and she'd only got information out of him in these rare instances. So she let him continue.

"They have some Jack-like traits, and yes they look like him, which I imagine you noticed...But they're not Jack, ok? So don't stress."

The video feed wasn't on the echo-comm so Lawrence couldn't see Angel's livid face at being told to 'not stress'. As if she could flick a button and all memories of Jack would be taken away.

"Look, they won't hurt you," Lawrence broke the silence again, "they were built-oh fuck! FUCK! Fuck you! Come on!"

Lawrence yelled more curses - one point for Lawrence in the not-Jack category - and gunfire erupted over the comm.

"Don't fret just some threshers but I've got to go," he said before the comm went dead leaving Angel alone once again.

It took Angel longer than she hoped to regain her courage. Her sense of peace was fragile, and the thought of summoning the two Jack's again ate away at her nerve. She hugged her knees and leaned against the container wall on her cot. There was a lot of tech in the room if she used her Siren powers she could fry the wrong device. But Lawrence said they were safe? Angel fidgeted against the sheets and banged her head against the wall.

A long groan escaped her, "I can do this," she spoke aloud. As if the vocal admission would give her more confidence.

She summoned her powers and entered the code into the wristwatch. Red and blue particles burst forward and there stood the two Jacks.

"HI AGAIN!" Blue two cheered.

"Oh shit, you're hella close. I don't need to yell anymore," Blue two stepped back from the cot.

Red one rolled his eyes and leaned against Lawrence's desk. Angel took note how the hologram seemed to naturally interact with the room's surroundings.

"You...You don't know who I am?" Angel asked slowly.

"Ah...guess not?" Red one replied as he folded his arms.

"Why would we know you kiddo?" Blue two spoke, his features, Jacks features were softer than anything she'd ever seen on the real Jack's face. Red one seemed entirely disinterested in her. Instead, his eyes were narrow, darting around the corners of the safe house.

"Because I'm your daughter!" Angel blurted out.

That gained the attention of the Red one, "We're digistructed AI we cannot have children."

I know that.

"The man you're based off does," Angel grumbled. Following Red one's example, Angel crossed her arms.

"Right, well we're not Jack," Red one hissed as if she'd insulted him.

Angle pressed herself further into the container wall.

"Ok, back off big boy," Blue two chimed in.

Red one gave his counterpart a dangerous look but said nothing.

"I'm Nyx," the blue hologram spoke, voice low in a very charismatically Jack-like way.

Nyx offered her a blue digital hand. Static tingled Angel's fingers tips, she expected her hand to move straight through the hologram yet she found it was more like interacting with suspended water. The holograms weren't precisely holograms. That explained how they could project their voices, and interact with the environment like a real person. They had some sense of mass, Angel realised. Her eyes widen as she inspected Nyx's outstretched hand.

"Crake," Red one woke her from her thoughts. He did not bother to offer her his hand.

"I'm Angel," she replied and returned them a hesitant smile.

Curiously, Angel pressed her hand to the wristwatch and summoned her powers again. The software was vast yet simple, an example of Jack's brilliant coding. In there, she could see that Crake encased more of Jacks violent and hostile personality traits, while Nyx sat on the other end of the spectrum. Despite their Jack-ness, there was a lot in their code that indicated to a whole different being. She wanted to explore further but reasoned it was rude to ignore her two 'guests'.

"There's no threat, so we should leave and save our energy" and with that Crake disappeared with a burst of pixels back into the watch.

"Bit of a knob isn't he?" Nyx gave her a sly smile, "I can hang around if you like? Why were you in a hole in a cliff before? Is that where Lawrence is keeping you? What a dick. How were you not freezing out there? I mean my sensors told me it was two degrees, so I guess that's cold. I wouldn't know. I can't feel shit."

Nyx didn't give Angel a lot of room to get a word in, one point to being Jack-like for Nyx.

This was too surreal, she now had three versions of Jack in her life, none of them a-like and none of them an exact copy of the real Jack.

Lawrence the quiet, rude and the largest enigma of them all.

Crake the hostile, yet informative red AI.

And Nyx the non-stop-talking, celebrity smiling blue AI.

"Um...I needed to get away from the safe house," Angel finally answered.

"Ok..." Nyx slumped down beside her on the cot and crossed his legs.

The way Nyx moved was fascinating as if he had a real weight to him. Like he could actually be leaning against the cot next to her. Angel couldn't help but stare, her Dad had really outdone himself this time.

"I didn't know I had a daughter", Nyx cocked his head to the side and looked her over, "and you've got tattoos!"

Blue Jack beamed at her, "Sweet".

Angel pulled up the Hyperion sweeter so Nyx could see the full length of her arm. A small jolt of panic swept her, she mentally cursed her self for so easily revealing her secret to the AI. However, the feeling was short lived. Nyx's reaction was not at all what she expected.

"Holy shit! You're a Siren, I have a Siren Daughter?!" Nyx was ecstatic, "That is so cool."

Angel couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm.

"So if I have a pretty kid, does that mean I have a hot wife too? I mean you may have got all your good genetics from me, but I'd like to think I had pretty lady too."

"Um...you did. She's gone."

"Oh, bummer, sorry." Nyx gave her a solemn look. Angel hoped it was genuine, the real Jack made feigning sincerity an artform.

Thankfully Nyx didn't press the matter.

"So are you going to tell me what the hell happened before? Was that a Siren thing? You know all the devices going haywire. No offence, but it felt like you were tearing up my metaphorical insides," Nyx moved dramatically to imitate his guts pouring out of him.

"I'm sorry. I...I don't really want to talk about it," Angel confessed.

Nyx hummed, "No worries. I should probs leave you too it, you look like you need rest. Again, no offence, but you look like shit kiddo."

There was a lot to process from that simple statement. Angel's mouth was left hanging open as she thought of a valid response to Nyx. Jack never let her dismiss a conversation, he always got what he wanted, he never allowed her rest when she needed to be alone.

One point to Nyx for the not-Jack category.

"I think, that's a good idea."

Nyx gave her a slow nod and moved out of her way so she could lay down on the cot. Another not-Jack gesture. Jack would have made people walk through him if he were ever a hologram, Angel mused.

Another point to Nyx.

* * *

Before Lawrence left the safe house, he'd administer Angel with more Eridium. The substance had carried her off to sleep, and he snuck out as the Pandora sun finally set. Lawrence apologised to Felicity as he ripped her circuits out, all his hard work gone. But he'd have her back soon. Lawrence had driven the truck through the night to reach Lynchwood from there he fast travelled back to the Bunker.

Everything started with the destruction of Felicity.

If only Lawrence had told Jack to go fuck himself and his contract. Maybe, 'fuck himself' would have been a poor choice of words. Maybe things would have panned out different.

Lawrence ran both his hand down his face, he knew the threat would have been pointless. Jack always got what he wanted, the universe loved him so. But if he'd just left, then at least he wouldn't have been accountable for what happened to Felicity. Lawrence had committed many atrocities over the years. He'd helped Nisha kill some Vault Hunters dog, he'd captured runaway scientists for Jack, executed those who disobeyed and airlocked those suspected of treasons. Yet, despite all of this, his mind always trailed back to the AI who only wanted her freedom.

Lawrence rubbed the inside of his palms. One of his tells when he struggled with his choices. It sickened him to think if he could just save her, it would redeem himself of all of this. His rational brain screamed at him that one good dead didn't wipe away the bad. However, his other half told him it would give him peace of mind. And that's all he really cared about.

Lawrence paced down the empty halls of the Bunker. His footsteps sounded like a parade against the silent compound, not even loaders were about. His echo buzzed to life, and Lawrence accepted the call on from his earpiece.

"How did you convince Jack I was dead?" Angel blurted out.

Lawrence had wondered when he was going to have this conversation. Angel hadn't lead on how much she recalled from their escape. Eridium was a powerful substance on the mind, no doubt the details would elude her.

"I'm still not sure I have," Lawrence finally answer. "That's why you must keep the cloaking device on hand. Call Nyx or Crake if you have to."

Lawrence detected a hitch in her breathing. There was something she wanted to say, but she only offered him silence.

"I cut your hair..." Lawrence paused, did she really need to know about her teeth? The health-kit and Eridum seemed to have entirely healed her jaw. No point telling her that detail.

"I used your hair to lay traces of your DNA in the Eriduim. Sorry about the shitty haircut," Lawrence mumbled the last bit.

He reached his destination and shoved his palm against the scanner and held his breath as he waited for the results. He could only hope that Jack hadn't revoked his access to the server room.

"How would that have proved anything? The Eridium destroys everything. They'd be nothing left." Angel pressed.

Not if it was bone or teeth, Lawrence argued silently.

The door gave a pleasant chime and slid apart to reveal a cold dark vault. Lawrence stepped over the threshold wrapping his jacket around him tighter. The cooling system was hard at work.

"I dunno. You're a Siren, maybe the Eridium left it untouched," Lawrence was losing focus on the conversation.

A soft hum buzzed around him, there were rows and rows of servers which reached the roof. It was like exploring a dark metal hedge maze, only the glow from the wiring allowed him to explore.

"Angel, I'm in the server room, there are hallways of these things. Which one am I looking for."

"I wouldn't know," her tone stiff.

Lawrence rubbed his brow as he explored further into the vault. How much data was here that he could exploit? All of it only for Jack's eyes.

"I've never been in that room. I've never left my chamber," Angel explained.

Lawrence sighed, exasperation was on the edge of consuming him.

"I have an idea," Angel said thoughtfully, "plug your echo into one of the servers, and I'll access it through the call."

"No," Lawrence halted his search, "you're not going to do that."

"Why?! I can easily search all of the servers and find the one with Felicity's code and transfer it to your Echo," she implored.

"I can't have you sniffing around if Jack noticed-"

"He won't," she snapped.

Lawrence didn't reply, this wasn't a debate.

"You need to trust me with this," Angel asserted.

Lawrence grounded his teeth.

"Fine, I'm plugging the echo in now. You go in, and you're out straight away. Don't you dare touch anything else."

"Yes, sir."

Lawrence's brow knitted together. He couldn't tell if she was mocking him, or if she was intimidated. He just wanted to keep her safe, but that meant being firm, in Jack's voice. Lawrence concluded he'd reconsider how to approach her in the future.

It didn't take long for Angel to access the serves. His echo buzzed to life, the screen was a blur with numbers and code. Lawrence was sure it was going to crash, but after a few moments, Angel declared it was done. What Angel had on Felicity was now stored on the device. He wasted no time and proceeded back to his loft. Lawrence figured he should double check the surveillance system was still down. He took the marble steps two at a time, and once the scanner gave him the 'ok', he stepped into his quarters. Everything was still covered in purple and red stains, glass shattered everywhere, and the cupboards and draws tossed open. A thin layer of dust had settled across his bench.

No one had been here.

Lawrence paced to his workstation and got to work. His tried to keep a calm composure, but his heart raced. Every moment he lingered was a moment for Jack to apprehend him. He hit the keys on his computer to wake it from its deep slumber. Notifications were scattered across his screen regarding maintenance, broken torrents and a few rouge loaders. Lawrence went to disregard them all. However, another warning popped up.

INCOMING FAST-TRAVEL. APPROVAL NOT NEEDED.

Lawrence gripped the desk in front of him.

OCCUPANT: Male

DESTINATION: Helios to Bunker: Control Core.

"No, no, no, no," Lawrence growled.

He shoved some commands into the computer in an attempt to cancel the fast-travel. He knew it was futile, but he couldn't sit idle. Warnings popped forward declaring he didn't have permission for his actions. With all other options spent he called Angel.

"Oh fuck, Angel, don't worry about me, everything will be ok, ok?" Lawrence blurted out.

"What is it? What's happening?"

NEW OCCUPANT HAS ARRIVED AT THE BUNKER: CONTROL CORE.

"Jack just fast travelled to the Bunker."

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Wooo! This story just hit 13 followers! thank you all! Please let me know in the comments/reviews how you're finding it. It seriously one of the most heartwarming thing to hear your thoughts xxx

Next week/update; Tim and Jack meet face-to-face for the first time in months.

A03 Version if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


	13. Chapter 13 - Bent & Broken

"Whatcha been up to Tim?"

Lawrence could smell the ethyl fumes from across the room.

Jack's mask was absent, his hair had that oily texture to it when he programmed for days on end, and his chin was covered with an uneven stubble. His eyes wielded a sunken gaze, evidence he'd been at the bottle and his swagger was more of a lopsided sway.

"You're drunk."

"Oh, I'm more than that," Jack snarled as he took a guarded step forward.

"But, how am I doing? Thanks for asking," Jack spat.

He stalked closer.

"You see my daughter was murdered by scum living bandit psychopaths, my girlfriend is then also murdered, shot in the face actually and that wasn't even the best bit. My double, yes you dear pumpkin, shot her, didn't have the decency to call, then you ran off and left me to pick up the shit stained pieces." Jack was practically spitting at him when he reached the end of his rant. Each accusation only tightened the noose around Lawrence's neck, he was going to need all his wits to free himself from this execution.

"Where-the-hell! Have you been?"

"Busy, I've been-"

Jack drew his gun and pointed it at Lawrence's head. He chose to leave his holstered. He just needed to wait out the storm, drawing a weapon would only fuel the winds of Jack's rage.

"You son-of-a-bitch, you left me," Jack hissed.

"I told you I was just on a leave of absence. After six years I figured I deserved one."

Jack flexed his grip, but it did nothing to steady his aim.

"Put that stupid thing down Jack, you'll just end up shooting yourself in the foot," Lawrence scolded.

Jack ignored the advice.

"I had to bury her, Nisha, why did you take her from me?" Jack didn't give him the opportunity to reply, "and now I have to bury my little girl," he shook as he took another step forward.

"Why couldn't you save her," Jack's voice was on the edge of breaking, "you let them murder her, she was just a little girl."

The gun wavered to and from Lawrence's head.

"HOW COULD YOU LET THEM KILL MY ANGEL?!" Jack roared at him.

Lawrence had only seen him this unstable once. Jack had been intent on killing Lawrence - for a reason he'd rather forget - but Jack was a coward. He couldn't do it, so two other cloaked doubles paid the price. After that, Lawrence knew Jack could never follow through with his threats. Despite this knowledge, caution was the best approach. Lawrence raised his hands slowly and lightly stepped towards the kitchen. Jack kept his arm raised trailing after him with the gun pointed at his head. Lawrence opted to sit on the stool opposite Jack, ensuring the bench separated them.

Déjà vu captured Lawrence's mind for a moment. So many of their fights had started and ended with the kitchen bench between them. The destruction of Felicity on his sever, the argument over him getting a cybernetic eye, when they first...Lawrence bit down on his tongue. He didn't need to recall those memories while Jack had a gun pointed at his head.

"ANSWER ME!?" Jack roared again.

Lawrence knew whatever answer he gave Jack it wouldn't satisfy him. Instead, he opted to redirect him.

"When was the last time you even fired a gun at anything living" Lawrence jerked an arm towards Jack's outreached gun. The CEEO didn't play 'hero' on Pandora or Elpis anymore, no, that was all Lawrence.

"Oh fuck off, Tim"

Jack fired a warning shot and he felt the hot flame from the laser shoot pass his ear. He'd been held up by countless bandits, wannabe assassins and kidnappers. An angry Jack with a laser was frightening in only one aspect; he'd miss his warning shot and actually shoot Lawrence in the face. Jack wasn't the least bit threatening with a gun, not after he'd spent years living with the man. He'd witness Jack fire his laser at a damn toaster oven that burnt his cheesie. This was just another Sunday lunch to Lawrence.

"You fucking shit, you little cock-sucking stain of a human being, what the fuck Tim! What the actual fuck! Why did you fucking kill her?"

Get it all out of your system kiddo. Lawrence resisted against temptation to remind Jack that swearing was an excellent way to deal with pain. He felt mocking the man further would be overkill.

"I'm sorry about Nisha."

"No, you're not."

Lawrence shrugged, "you're right, I'm not. She may have wanted to fuck me, but she hated my guts. I honestly can't say I'm going to miss her."

"Is that why you killed her?"

"No…" Lawrence replied quietly, his eyes never leaving Jack's.

"Why then?" each word was purposely put to him, cold and void of anything remotely human.

Jack was a paranoid man, even in Nisha's death he'd find anything to grasp to, to blame her for leaving him in this world. Lawrence already had the perfect cover story.

"Nisha and your team of doctors were the only ones who knew about our scars."

Jack would know what Lawrence was referring to, the scar above his collarbone from the failed sniper assassination was one of the few features that distinguished them apart.

"What about it?"

"You and I both know someone had to have told that Vallory bandit about our scars. How on earth would she have known I was the body double?"

Jack pressed his lips together, his fists were uncharacteristically pale. Lawrence leaned forward and continued to feed the man's paranoia.

"When Nisha came to collect me...we had a disagreement. I confronted her, about a few things. It didn't end well for her." Lawrence kept his tone flat and his eyes focused on Jack. He could lie his way through this. He had to.

"And one of these things was the Vallory assassination attempt?" Jack cocked a brow, his composure relaxing for the first time.

"She didn't outright admit, I think she was too nervous to confess she nearly killed you too. But she was a proud woman, and couldn't help boast that she had some hand in it."

Lawrence served the last of his lie to Jack; vague yet probable. The fewer details he offered up, the better. All he needed was the seed of doubt to eat away at Jack. He had no remorse for destroying whatever feelings the man had left for his lover. Good riddance.

The story Lawrence was playing on was one they both remembered well. It was meant to be their vacation, a few days alone before he was to be sent away to reside at the Bunker. They took the most overpowered vehicle Hyperion had to offer and moonshot down to Pandora to spend the weekend ransacking the place. Jack hadn't set foot on the planet in a year and was keen to prove to Lawrence he could still handle himself. Unfortunately, an unbearably decrepit woman named Vallory cut their holiday short. Evidently, she had intel on who was the real Jack. It was closet the two of them came to death, despite that, Jack and Lawrence took care of her men, sadly she got away. But the mystery of who had sent the vile woman after them was never solved. Until now. Nisha was Lawrence's scapegoat, and Jack was lapping it up.

"Now you know," Lawrence replied coolly.

Jack's face screwed up, Lawrence was surprised his face could contort to such a degree.

"I got her a damn anniversary gift, now what am I meant to do with it? You Jackass."

Lawrence just gave Jack a shrug, "give it to me?"

"You're just full of wonderful ideas princess, how do you feel about lingerie?" Jack gave Lawrence the briefest of sly smiles.

"I'm not opposed," Lawrence delivered Jack an equally sly smile.

Jack tossed the gun onto the bench between them, before he let his face fall into his hands.

"I was growing tired of her anyway," Jack groaned.

Lawrence knew this play. Jack was attempting to disregard his tantrum by acting like he never cared in the first place. Lawrence knew full well Jack loved Nisha, in his own unique fucked up way. It wasn't the same as what they had, there wasn't a word to describe what Jack and Lawrence had. Jack would return to moping, he couldn't keep up the facade of not caring for long. Jack held onto grudges and despair like a security blanket.

His psychopath housemate ran a long hand down his face, without the gun being pointed at his chest, Lawrence could take a moment to study his adversary. Jack looked more his age than ever, bags crept under his eyes, and the grey hair now lingered where Jack didn't have it deliberately styled. Lawrence wondered how he looked himself, the last week hadn't precisely been stress free. Lawrence slowly shifted in his chair, the movement caught Jacks attention, and his hand twitched towards the gun. He gave Jack an honest smile and reached for what remained of the scotch and the glass tumblers he and Nisha had left out. He poured them both a drink and slid it towards Jack. Lawrence needed to keep a clear head, but one glass wouldn't hurt.

They sat in silence for the most prolonged period that Lawrence could recall. Jack could fill any silence with a rant or his drabbles, but not this time.

For a moment Lawrence recalled the comforts of their apartment, how they spent their evenings together. They'd sit and drink, bitch about rival companies and muse about how they'd spend their Friday Firing sprees. Maybe it wouldn't be worth kicking up a fuss? Maybe he should just go back with Jack. He could always try and get a message to Athena, to retrieve Angel. Jack had him back now, and without Nisha, he wasn't going to let him go anywhere but back to Helios.

Jack ran a hand along the bench and collected the dust on his fingertips, "Where did you go?" Jack asked with his eyes studied his dust-covered hand.

 _Time for lies; round two._

Lawrence rested his head in his arm, sighing he recounted a vague version of his adventures, "drove around the highlands, took parts in some sniper practice, camped outside, saved a Destroyer from some bandits."

"Is that so?" Jack's voice was dangerously unphased as if he already knew the details, the truth of where Lawrence had been.

Maybe Lawrence wasn't as good as a liar as he hoped.

"Where is she...where is my Angel?" Jack finally spoke, his voice tense with emotion.

"She's gone, Jack."

Lawrence let his grip on the glass relax, he was momently relaxed with the conversation change. Jack shot a violent glare up at Lawrence, his grip on the tumbler was pale. Lawrence was sure he saw a crack or two form on the crystal.

"Gone?" Jack hissed.

"I don't know what happened...after you left...the Eridium, it just consumed everything," Lawrence supplied Jack with another one of his lies. His words feigning tenderness and sorrow. He leaned forward as he spoke, making sure not to break eye contact as he reached a hand forward.

"What?" Jack snarled, the anger that had consumed him before was replaced with something far more primal and deranged. Lawrence suddenly wished Jack was still mad at him over Nisha.

"You can see for yourself...I'll come with you if you like."

Lawrence moved again to reach Jack, but Jack just shuddered from fits of rage. It was a bluff, Jack would never return to her chamber, he couldn't witness what he knew he was responsible for. Angel was right, Jack was a coward.

Jack finished his drink and set the tumbler down. "Ok...let's go see her, I want to try and bury something of my little girl," Jack slurred.

 _What? No. Fuck, fuck fuck._

Lawrence's feet slid to the ground, he stepped around the bench to calm the violently shaking Jack. He moved forward and rested a hand on Jack's shoulder he felt the CEO's posture relax under his touch. Jack leaned into Lawrence as he pushed himself off the bench, his feet stumbled slightly as he stood up. A measure of Jack's level of intoxication. The two men shuffled to the exit of Lawrence's loft, his hand still on Jacks shoulder. It laid there monetary before Jack paused. Lawrence opened his mouth to question what was wrong, that was before Jack swung around and punched him hard, very hard.

"You were supposed to protect her!" Jack bellowed at him.

Lawrence took a few steps back but did not fall, his eyes narrowed feeling foolish for letting Jack get the better of him. He rubbed his jaw, Jack had clocked his under his chin. If Jack's drunken state hadn't hindered his swing, he was sure Jack would have broken his jaw. Lawrence kept his gaze fixed on Jack, who now had the gun pointed at his chest. Jack took a few feverish steps towards him.

"This is all your fault! I should've known you'd betray me too! You all have."

For once Jack's paranoia was almost on the money. Lawrence had betrayed him, but not in the way he thought.

"If you had just trusted me in the first place we wouldn't be in this mess!" Lawrence snapped. His chest tightened at the counter, but Lawrence dismissed it.

"I could've helped! But you didn't let me, as always, you had to do everything your way," Lawrence growled back, his breathing sharp and his hands dug into his palms. He didn't want to admit the truth in his words, but he knew some part of him felt betrayed. They confided everything to one another, why did he leave Angel out?

Jack just ignored him, "You're just like the others!" he took another swaying step forward, his intoxication getting the better of him. The gun was wavering back and forth.

"Jack, don't do this," Lawrence tried to reason, but Jack cut him off.

He fired the gun at Lawrence's chest.

Lawrence's shield absorbed the impact of the bullet, but his protection shattered as a result. Jack tore towards him. Lawrence reached for his gun, in a swift movement it was unholstered and aimed, but he didn't shoot. Lawrence couldn't pull the trigger, he couldn't shoot Jack. Despite all his reasonings, despite everything Lawrence told himself, how he despised him, hated what Jack had made him into. He still couldn't fire a gun at him.

Jack flung himself against Lawrence, and Lawrence took another step backwards, he blocked sloppy swing from Jack but missed the kick to the shin which drove him to the ground. Lawrence stumbled to his knees, he glanced up, Jack was livid. His hair was stuck to his brow, slick with sweat, he was hunched over ready to deliver another blow at him.

"Wait!" Lawrence tried to call, but his words were cut off as Jack landed a clean hit under his jaw.

Lawrence fell back, past the threshold of the loft. With series of slick thuds, he fell down the stairwell, his head hit the marble steps and his back into another. He collapsed at the bottom of the staircase, bent and broken he gasped for air before everything went black.

* * *

There was a sickening crack, but Jack paid it not mind he bounded down the stairwell and in seconds his hands were fast around Timothy's throat. His double didn't even respond as he pressed his thumbs down, crushing his windpipe. Jack wanted to see the life leave Timothy's body, he wanted to watch the colour drain from his face, watch his eyes turn red and lip's blue. He was responsible for his Angel's death! What did he do to stop it? Nothing.

Timothy was unresponsive, maybe he knew that Jack was right to punish him? He deserved it.

Timothy's arms continued to lay motionless on the cold floor, they did not scrape at Jack to be released, nor did his legs attempt through him off. A sour feeling rose in his throat if Timothy wouldn't fight back then what was the point. Jack's eyes trailed from Timothy's blank face down to the hands around his double's raw neck, he slowly let his hands go limp and pulled them away from his windpipe. Jack turned his hands over to reveal they were soaked in blood. A deep pool had already formed around the back of Timothy's head, his neck was bent on a crude angle.

Jack fumbled his words as he shook Timothy's limp body, yet this only encouraged the blood to pool faster.

"Tim!" he growled as he shook him again.

A soft sigh left his double's lungs, Timothy's eyes remained closed, but his face stirred. Jack patted Timothy's cheek, far gentler than he intended.

"Get up! I'm not done with you yet, this is not how you die."

He shook Timothy again, but the man just groaned from Jack's attempted to spur some fight into him. With some more gentle encouragement from Jack, Timothy finally opened his eyes. Jack released the air he'd held captive with a long sigh and growled at Timothy to get up.

"I...I can't," Timothy mumbled as his eyes started to widen.

"What?" Jack spat at him.

"...move"

Timothy's eyes gazed down his body then up to Jack. His breathing was stunted, panic was drawing upon his face. Jack picked up Timothy's arm, he felt no resistance, just dead weight. He dropped it and watched as it instantly fell to his side. Timothy's his eyes were wide, despite his ragged breathing his chest barely moved. A cruel smile crept across Jack's face as his picked up Timothy's arm again and tested its responsiveness.

"You cunt," Lawrence hissed at him, "you broke my fucking back."

Timothy leaned his head further to curse at Jack.

"What have I told you about cursing," Jack snarled and pressed another thumb down on Timothy's windpipe.

"Fuhk yuoh," Timothy gasped under the pressure.

Jack loosened the grip on Timothy's neck, and Jack resisted the urge to burst into hysterics, Timothy couldn't move, he couldn't do shit. But Timothy's anger was short-lived, his breathing continued to become shorter, and faster and his eyes darted around the room.

Oh, come on! Not a damn panic attack. I thought we were over these.

He gave Timothy a light slap, "Oi, focus."

"I can't breathe," Timothy heaved.

"You're talking so you can breathe dum dum."

"I can't…breathe...I can't...I..." but the words were trailing away, Timothy was losing too much blood.

"Where are your health-kits?" Jack pulled himself off the floor and returned to Timothy's loft. Jack hadn't noticed it so much when he first arrived, but Timothy's place looked like it had been ransacked. The kitchen draws were pulled apart, and glass was littered along the floor.

A health-kit won't save him, it won't replace the blood or fix his broken back, or neck, or whatever, Jack mused.

He accessed his gear chip and digitised the liquid Eridium that he still carried for Angel and for other emergencies. He spied an empty syringe by Lawrence's bed, Jack grabbed it. Curiosity briefly emerged as to why it was there before he returned his attention to more pressing matters. This was going to be great, he'd get Timothy back on his feet and then see about strangling that pretty neck of his. Maybe repeat the process a few times. Happy with this new course of action Jack returned to Timothy's side.

"Good news, not going to let you die today," Jack lightly cheered as he cupped Timothy's face.

Timothy only tried to jerk away from the touch, but he couldn't do much more than move his head. Jack placed the empty health-kit on the ground beside them. Timothy's wide eyes darted from the needle to Jack's face. Timothy hated needles, getting his darn vaccinations was a month-long chore of coxing him into it. Jack would shower him with rewards afterwards or else he'd act like a sour child for days.

"What are you doing?" Timothy attempted to ask sternly, but there was a tremor on the edge of his words.

Jack revealed the bottled Eridium from his lap and opened the cap, he dipped the end of the syringe in and drew the purple substance into the cylinder.

"No, no, no, no," Timothy rasped, his bright eyes bulged, and his jaw clenched tight.

Jack rubbed a tender hand over the side of his double face, to see him in such disarray made Jack run hot.

"Jack...don't do it," Timothy's begs for mercy only made Jack lust for more.

Jack ignored him and swayed the syringe back and forth allowing the purple substance to glow.

"Another treatment will only make things worse!" Timothy implored.

"Just let me go-" Timothy stopped speaking, an odd expression that Jack couldn't place was skewed across his face. Timothy looked like he had some sick sense of relation before he fidgeted his head away from Jack.

"Your back is broken. A health-kit alone is going to fix that," Jack scolded him. He bit down on his tongue, resisting the urge to sneer in elation at his double's panicked face.

"You know the drill, you're my double. Can't have you broken like this," Jack spoke, voice tender as he stroked the side of Timothy's face again.

When Timothy jerked away, Jack retracted his hand. So be it. Jack clamped down on Timothy's arm and folded the sleeves up. Deliberately taking his time to shove the cuffs of his shirt and bomber jacket up.

"Jack, I can't go through it again."

Jack wrapped a firm hand around the top half of Timothy's bicep, tightening further so his vein would expose itself to him.

"It killed me last time!" Timothy cried.

The look of plain horror on Timothy's face was the satisfaction Jack sought.

"The Doctors said no more Eridium, you'll make everything worse," Timothy continued to reason his case. But Jack paid him no mind. Did he honestly think he was going to leave him broken like this?

This was so much better than strangulation.

"Maybe so, Timtams."

Jack gave his double a loving pat on the chest before he drove the needle into Timothy's waiting vein.

Timothy screamed, and Jack just shone with glee.

"Fuck you, Fuck you, Jack!" Every curse imaginable escaped Timothy's lungs.

"Just get it out! Get it out of my arm!" Timothy's eyes were fixed on the syringe lodge in his arm.

"That's right, you're a junkie who's afraid of needles," Jack scoffed slapping a hand on Timothy's thigh.

Jack withdrew the syringe and tossed it to the side, yet, made sure it remained in Timothy's vision.

"I'm not a fucking junkie and its not about the damn needle," Timothy's tone was already softer as the Eridium pumped up his arm. "You made me like this," his words were slurring.

"Yeah you just have a problem with dosage control" Jack sighed, "Which is a polite way of me saying you're a junkie. I've had to take weeks off work for you, don't let me remind you the state you were in last time," Jack snarled.

Timothy had taken multiple Eridium treatments over the years. Every time there was a serve poisoning, assassination attempt or trauma Jack would make sure his double was fighting fit in no time. However, with each treatment, his body adapted and the dosage needed to be increased. The last had proven too much.

The two of them were debriefing each other on their Atlas finds in the Dust, or lack of. Timothy was complaining about being contractually obliged to drink black coffee before he fell face first into the fountain. Timothy's coffee had been laced with poison, which had been intended for him. It would have been a shallow watery grave for his double if Jack hadn't acted fast. Dosing him up with Eridium his body was able to fight off the poison, but he may have given him too much. A week of intensive care probably confirmed that. When they started to wean Timothy off the Eridium, he became agitated, hostile and even violent. Jack found him overdosed in their apartment, curled up in a feverish wreck in the bathtub, and so started the long process of getting him clean. Until now.

"So, should I just leave this here?" Jack tossed his head to the side and held the Eridium bottle up so Timothy could see it. "You're going to want it real bad when you wake up."

"Arsehole" Timothy said as his head rolled to the side. He was no longer able to hold it up and administer his death stare at Jack.

"I'll just leave it here so you can reach it when you can," Jack gave him a toothy smile before he pushed himself off the cold marble floor.

"Get back here," Timothy tried to call, but the words barely made it out.

"Suck it up Timtams, when you wake up, you'll wish I had strangled the life out of your pretty face."

Jack towered over his double, nudging him with his boot.

"I'll come back in a cycle to see how you're doing, that's if you haven't ransacked the Eridium supply from every mine in the area," Jack chuckled as he straightened out his jacket.

"Jack! Don't leave me," but Timothy's voice was already fading, the Eridium taking him into a blissful state of repair.

Silence took the hallway as his double finally succumbed to the Eridium. Jack ran a hand over his chin, making note he needed to shave when he returned to Helios. He felt the soberest he'd been in days, Timothy always had that effect on him. Make him see reason.

Jack gave Timothy one last nudge with his shoe as a parting farewell, upon doing so, a soft glow caught his eye; Timothy's echo was active. Jack shot back down and grabbed the device from Timothy's belt. The receiver was on.

"Who is this?" Jack snarled, but the echo-comm remained silent.

* * *

"Who is this?"

Her dad's voice snarled into the echo-comm receiver.

Angel yanked her palm away from the echo-comm and her consciousness with it. Her hands trembled as she placed the device down beside her.

Jack had spoken to her. The real Jack had talked to her.

Angel curled up on the cot, shivering as she recalled the conversation she heard between the two men.

Why did her Dad call Lawrence, Tim? Was that his real name? And what relationship did Lawrence have with her Dad?

Angel had never heard anyone speak in that tone to Jack, let alone scold him.

And did Lawrence really kill the Sheriff of Lynchwood?

If Angel had questions before she had hundreds now. She huddled up in the cot, hugging her shoulders as she tried to guess the answers.

* * *

 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

* * *

Hey Tim, there's a word to describe your relationship with Jack its called Stockholm syndrome you muppet.

As always comments are very much appreciated, thanks to those who have left one so far, you are the best! Reminder: this story hasn't been beta read, don't hesitate to point out mistakes/typos. It's my first fic, so still lots of learning to do!

A03 Version if you prefer to read it there - /works/12897621/chapters/294645


	14. Chapter 14 - Becoming Jack Part III

Movement hauled Lawrence's attention away from the barrel in his hand; Jack was approaching. His employer drove two large hands against the French doors and pushed them both inward. He marched into Lawrence's apartment with an air of certainty, as if it were his own home and Lawrence was the intruder. His masked features looked smooth, relaxed for once as he paced into the kitchen.

"Scotch?" Jack asked.

Lawrence continued to rub an oil stain cloth over the barrel of his sniper as he answered.

"We drank it all. I've ordered us more."

Jack cursed and crossed his arms. When Lawrence went ahead and ordered them more scotch, he discovered the drink cost his monthly income. Receiving anything shipped from Earth was a ridiculous expense, but Jack just couldn't go without it.

"There's regular whiskey in the cupboard, from one of the Edens, I forget which one" Lawrence jerked his head over his shoulder, his hands too busy cleaning the compartments of the dismantled sniper to point.

"It better be from Eden-5," Jack grumlbed.

Jack gave him a curt smile, as cold as it was, it still surprised him. Jack paced over and started rummaging through Lawrence's cupboards. He pulled out two tumblers for them both, without asking, he poured Lawrence a generous amount. Another surprise, Jack was usually tight on Lawrence's drinking. Maybe word had finally got to Jack that Lawrence was down to seven percent body fat. Any more, and he might as well be an Olympian.

"My thanks," Lawrence accepted the glass.

"Really? My thanks?" Jack mocked, "what did I say about your vocab? Just say what's needed, or nothing at all."

Lawrence's grip on the sniper tightened, thankfully Jack didn't press the matter further. Jack's presence was a fierce itch that couldn't be defeated. He just had to hold on to it. Eventually, it will pass. Jack wandered back around the kitchen bench and propped himself up on the stool.

"We have a service that cleans those, you know?" Jack motioned to the dismantled sniper.

"I thought you were heading out tonight," Lawrence replied without looking up as he reached for a cloth that wasn't stained with oil.

Lawrence was confined to the apartment on most evenings, and was forbidden to leave when Jack was heading out 'on the town'. In his early days, he could enjoy a night or two at a bar drowning away the day with a drink, sometimes with a girl on his arm. It was surreal at first, the attention. Everyone listened to what he had to say, they lapped up every gesture, word spoken as if he was the very air they breathed. Getting a girl was the simple part, keeping her an arms distance away was the hard part. All forms of romance were off the table, Jack had been very firm with that rule. Even a text or two and he'd snatch his echo away and destroy all evidence of the woman he'd been with. Since the (failed) sniper assassination, Jack's grip on him was relentless. It often gnawed at his sanity, not being able to freely roam as he pleased. He reserved mundane tasks, such as gun cleaning for those evenings, which was becoming every evening.

"Nisha cancelled," Jack admitted as he finished his drink and poured himself another.

So that's why you're getting drunk in my apartment. Jack always needed an audience. Without Nisha, Lawrence was second best.

Jack pulled out his echo, and his hand flicked across the screen, Lawrence heard him mumbled something about 'deadlines' and 'new contracts being needed'. There wasn't much Lawrence could respect in Jack, but his work ethic was something to be admired. Even at home he'd be working, drink in hand, coding in patches for the latest build, pushing through new deliverables ahead of schedule. Although silence could never prevail long with Jack, eventually he needed to hear his own voice again.

"Wrist laser not good enough anymore?" Jack caught his eye as he placed the echo down.

"I like my sniper," Lawrence replied flatly.

He returned his gaze to his hands, cloth still working along the barrel. Quietly he growled at Jack, "maybe for once you could adapt your image to me?"

"That's not how this works," Jacks tone dropped. It was amazing how fast the atmosphere could change. Lawrence knew better, he should have just kept his mouth shut.

He was walking on some mighty thin ice, but he just shrugged. His frustration overcame his fear, and with that, he sneered back to Jack, "then you go out and shoot. You can use whatever damn gun you like."

"Ok princess, where's the attitude coming from?" Jack snapped.

Lawrence fired off reasons to be pissed in his head like he was reciting a shopping list.

One; you shoved a needle down my eye and nearly lobotomised me

Two; you burned my face with a brand, and now I can no longer see, let alone shoot.

Three; I can't go out when I please, I've not enjoyed the company of anyone else but you and Nisha for months. You-are-both-insane.

Four; you keep me up at all hours of the night to learn your programming language, yet you don't let me work on any projects.

Five; I need sex, dammit will you please let me leave the apartment.

Lawrence's mind raced with all the reasons why he wanted to scream at his deranged housemate, despite his silent rage he let out a heavy sigh and opted to express thought number three.

"I can't shoot with this damn eye," he grumbled, "I mean I can. It's just not right."

Lawrence kept his attention focused on the sniper, he couldn't stand to look Jack in the eye. He was sure the man was crushing his tumbler in his hand, that shards of glass were moments away from flying across the room. Lawrence expected Jack to reply with something like, 'tough cookies' or 'suck it up kiddo'. Maybe he'd even draw the needle out again. However, the masked man just returned the sigh before responding in a tight tone.

"Just ask then."

"What?" Lawrence snapped his attention back to Jack.

Jack didn't reply, his gaze was firm, and his eyes wielded that wild glint when he dared Lawrence to strike back.

Was this a trick? A game? Jack hated games, he didn't have the patience for them. Lawrence thought he knew what Jack wanted him to say, but the admission terrified him. Lawrence was tense, yet his employer looked relaxed as ever, despite his glare.

"Can...I, um have a cybernetic eye?" The words left Lawrence awkwardly, and he felt the colour fade from his face.

"Not if you ask like that," Jack snickered as he took another deep sip of his drink.

Right, of course.

"How soon can I get a cybernetic eye?" Lawrence replied promptly and sternly, using the same inflection Jack used when he wanted something.

Jack barked out laughing, "Oh god, look at you!" He cheered.

Jack gestured to Lawrence to take a swig of his drink, after doing so he carried on with mock laughter. It made Lawrence so on edge he wanted to vomit. Jack carried on for a moment longer, wiping away non-existent tears from his eyes.

"Sure champ, you can get a cybernetic eye."

Lawrence's brow knitted together as he rubbed the inside of his palms with his thumb.

"Only thing," Jack cocked his head to the side and considered Lawrence for a moment before continuing, "you want the eye, you gotta be awake during the whole procedure."

"What? Hell no!"

Lawrence retaliated and slammed a hand down on the bench sending the scope of his sniper rolling off the edge. Jack didn't even flinch. Instead, his face drew up with a dark grin. Satisfaction swept over his features as Lawrence considered his options. Cybernetic eye surgery was inevitably going to involve a lot of needles down his eye socket. Jack knew his phobias well, and Lawrence's recent close encounter with them hadn't helped his fears. Nothing came on a silver platter from Jack, no, it had to be tainted in some way.

"You want it, you gotta do it my way," Jack pressed.

Lawrence gritted his teeth together, Jack assumed he'd say no, that his fear of needles would sway him otherwise. Jack was a fool if he hadn't realised that Lawrence was as stubborn as he was. If anything he was more stubborn, he'd held out this long. How many people could claim they could endure Handsome Jack? Lawrence had, and he planned on continuing. Despite whatever plans of revenge he may have had, surviving and getting his sight back was more important.

"Fine, I'll do it," Lawrence grounded.

Jack's face twitched, it was a snippet of something fierce before he relaxed and gave Lawrence a wide grin.

"It'll take a while to get everything set up," Jack muttered, "leave it with me, I'll call the surgeon", and he stalked off.

* * *

Ok so, Jack could be reasonable. Lawrence had known the game for some time, yet it required him to bury all empathy to be able to play alone. The rules; don't blink when Jack asks you to kill, don't speak when he throws your life into battle, enjoy it with a smile, even if you're washed in blood, be thankful.

It was working, Jack was happy. He went back to his frat boy persona, there were no more threats of needles. They enjoyed their drinks together, sometimes they even laughed at the expense of some employee. Everything was moving along as smoothly as it could.

So Lawrence voiced grievance number five.

"I need to get laid."

His confession seemingly made Jack choke on his meal. Lawrence raised a brow, it wasn't like it was an unusual topic. His employer could scarcely stop claiming how often he 'tapped' that, or was seeing some pretty bird, or how the new cute intern looked bent over his desk. (Jack was off limits to the HR department. Honestly, he could give them a years amount of work in a single day). Those were just the details outside of Nisha. From sound alone, Lawrence could practically envision what was going on between them.

So what if Lawrence wanted to follow suit.

"I'll sort something out," Jack buried his face in his meal and Lawrence returned to his.

'Sort something out' meant a woman - an escort he presumed - would be joining him in his apartment at nine.

When she arrived, Lawrence had already consumed three drinks. Liquid courage was needed tonight, and his guest had nothing to do with it. No, Lawrence suspected his housemate would make some god awful appearance. He couldn't deal with that sober and so he poured himself a fourth drink and offered her one.

She was gorgeous, dark hair, skin tone to match, a round face and full lips. Lawrence knew who she resembled but said nothing of it.

He forgot her name in about ten minutes when she was done with her drink he didn't bother with any more pleasantries. He took her to his room, and he fucked her. She yelled Jack's name, as he bent her over like one of Jack's interns. Her cries were muffled as he buried her face in the pillow. He came; exhausted he fell into the sheets. She didn't stay long after that, he had no idea how long Jack paid her for, but he was glad when she got up to leave.

Unsurprisingly Jack pressed him for details.

"Did she suck you off? Or get right into it? Was she into any kinky shit? Nah she couldn't have been, she was gone in like under an hour. You better not be ruining my image with a piss poor performance."

Lawrence rolled his eyes and told him he "wouldn't let him down."

So, it became a routine, she'd come over every Thursday. The second evening started and ended exactly like the first, on the third date, he finally remembered her name; Caitlin. On the forth, she may have actually came, up until that point he'd assumed all her cries in pleasure were fake. They had to be, Lawrence wasn't generous, was that Jack's doing? Had he always been this inconsiderate? He didn't know.

She told him how handsome he was, Lawrence internally rolled his eyes but played along. He needed the intimacy, no matter how crude and selfish it was. Lawrence forced himself to spend a little more time on her pleasure, but only slightly. Jack ran him into the ground, he would often finish work as she walked in the door. He didn't have the time to be concerned for someone else. Plus she was being paid, right?

Then she got his echo-frequency, she must have stolen it when he passed out. Jack would be furious, 'no romance' were the rules and Lawrence had no intention of breaking it. She sent him message after message. Lawrence ignored them all, and he hastily put the echo on silent to relieve any suspicion from Jack. When Jack left for a meeting with the head of RND team, Lawrence had five minutes to himself before he was meant to meet with a dev-ops unit. He opened up one of the twenty-something messages she had left him. His eyes scanned the contents, Lawrence re-read it, again and again. His blood turned to sluggish ice, his heart froze, and the echo-comm fell from his grasp.

No this couldn't happen.

That evening he was drunk, drunker than he'd ever been. Two-thirds of the scotch were gone, he shouldn't have drunk the good stuff. The good stuff was worth too much. It was worth more than him.

His hand knocked the glass before it found it's way around it, ignoring his previous thoughts Lawrence downed the rest of the drink. The lights were dulled to their evening setting, he couldn't be bothered to restore them. So there he sat face buried on the kitchen bench, drunk in the dark. Jack would be home soon. He'd have to tell him.

Lawrence swallowed down the drink or bile that threatened to come back up. His stomach was in knots, and his brow was slick with sweat. He counted down the minutes to when Jack would be home. Eventually, the pleasant chime of the elevator opening told him the countdown was over. The sound, as soft as it was, did not envoke pleasant thoughts. Wearily he pushed himself up on the stool, his gaze swayed as it settled on the french doors; eyeing the common room beyond. Jack went straight to his apartment, he didn't even look across at Lawrence's door.

'Come back', he mouthed.

When he tried to stand up he fell to the ground, the sound of the stool crashing behind him brought Jack to him. He wasn't pleased.

"What the hell!"

Lawrence heard his heavy footsteps march towards him, rough hands picked him up and leaned him against the bench.

"You're drunk, and It's a damn work night, you're heading to Pandora tomorrow morning! What the hell were you thinking?"

Jack grasped his hands onto Lawrence's face and steered him, so their bi-coloured eyes met. It was over at that point. No amount of liquid courage could save him.

"Please don't do it."

"Do what," Jack leered over him.

"The needle, my eye, don't do it. Please"

Jack's grip twitched, his thumb dug into Lawrence's jaw.

"I won't have to as long as you don't give me a reason."

When Lawrence didn't respond, Jack pressed him.

"What did you do?"

Lawrence succumbed to the fragile emotions he'd suppressed for so long. He didn't blink so the tears wouldn't be pushed down his face, but his eyes stung from staring for so long. Lawrence was thankful for the darkness.

When Jack didn't speak, Lawrence realised that was more terrifying. His body extracted a sob. He was ruined now, tainted. Jack would need to fix him, punish him.

"Come on," Jack's tone smoothed out effortlessly, from years of practice. Yet, his grip on Lawrence was as tight as ever.

He dragged him into his apartment. Lawrence's mind screamed at him to crumble his weight to the ground. But Jack led him on, like a chain around his neck Lawrence couldn't do anything but follow.

"Why the waterworks?" Jack growled as he fetched a glass of water.

He was sitting on Jack's couch, even though it was identical to his own, as was the layout, his surroundings felt foreign. Dread dripped from every corner which should have resonated a familiar presence.

Jacks calloused hands shoved the glass into Lawrence's face, but he didn't move to hold it. Instead, he slouched into his prefered position, shoulders caved in, and his head bowed in his hands. He could swear he heard Jack grind his teeth, but his employer said nothing. It took a long time for Lawrence to find his courage, he didn't know how he could possess such a fierce determination in battle. Maybe it was all adrenaline. However, a confession to Jack was his own sentence. He might as well have lined himself up under his own axe.

"The escort..." Lawrence finally slurred.

"Is that what this is all about? Bloody hell if she's no good I'll get you a new one. For fuck's sake." Jack got up from beside him, convinced the matter was settled.

"She's pregnant," Lawrence called to him.

Jack immediately halted his departure. He pivoted on the spot to look him in the eye. It took a moment for Lawrence to gather what was happening, but eventually, he realised Jack was shaking; with laughter.

"With you!?" He gave Lawrence a wide grin.

Jack must have misheard, misunderstood.

"She's tested, I saw the results, its mine. She's threatening to go to the papers, she's demanding money, she has a lawyer, Jack."

"Oh honey," Jack whined and trailed back over. Sitting next to him on the couch, he placed a hand against Lawrence's tear-stained cheek. The gesture was a mockery of intimacy, and it made him want to be sick.

"It's not yours," Jack smiled.

"Wh...what?"

How could he be so sure?

"I already took care of matters, when we did all that" Jack's other hand gestured to Lawrence's face and down his body.

"You did what?"

"You can't have kids," Jack sighed, evidently getting impatient explaining himself. "God forbid anyone thinks Handsome Jack can have kids and they come out looking pre-you."

Lawrence didn't know what to say. He'd never been in a steady relationship to ever consider kids. Even if he wanted to wing it on his own, his debt had made it financially impossible. But to have it taken away, the choice, it mortified him. Jack still held a hand to Lawrence's face, he wanted to pull away. It left him feeling cut open. Like a frog, strung up, dissected in a classroom in front of an audience. What else had been done? Who else knew?

Lawrence trembled under Jack's hand, he wished he had permission to leave, but Jack wasn't done yet. He moved the conversation along, unaware that Lawrence was still trying to process what he'd been told.

"Now, the matter of the escort. Whatever 'test' the slut got done was bullshit. Trust me, I made sure every part of you down there was tied up. The bub isn't yours. But we can't have her running her yap."

Jack's hand moved down and rested on Lawrence's shoulder, his grip firm.

"This problem is your making, you let her think she could manipulate you, use you. No one does that with us, got it?"

"Go deal with it."

Lawrence knew that tone. He knew what 'deal with it' meant.

"Tonight," Jack's tone was firm, cold, it wasn't human sounding.

"I...I can't. She...she..."

"You don't want me to do this for you," Jack warned.

Oh god, he didn't want Jack to do it. It would be messy, brutal, he'd drag it out, make her suffer. Lawrence shook under Jack's grasp, another sob was on the verge of leaving him.

Jack only sighed, "maybe you're not ready for these kinds of...interactions" Jack's tone was considerate, but Lawrence knew better.

"Look how worked up you are, you let one little wench get to you. Maybe you need some time to find your self again."

Jack's tone alluded to only one thing; being locked in the apartment for days on end. Removed from everyone, no interactions, no conversations, no echo-comm, not even Jack. Just him and his miserable thoughts.

"No, no, no Jack, sir, I'll be good. I'll do it."

"I don't think you can," Jack gritted his teeth.

When Lawrence didn't respond Jack forced him into the head of the couch. Jack's hands momentarily pinned him down, something flickered across his face, before Lawrence could register what he'd seen it was gone. Jack held him in place long enough for Lawrence to admit defeat.

"Sober up."

"Wait," Lawrence started, but he didn't dare chase after him.

* * *

Lawrence passed out on Jack's couch, his intoxication was his blanket from Helios's chilled air. The same pleasant chime he'd heard hours earlier rang out. The lights were still dimmed to their lowest settings, but he could never mistake Jack's silhouette.

Jack strolled back in, his pace casual as if he'd had a relaxing dinner and drinks with friends. Except, Jack didn't' relax, and he had no friends. Lawrence shut his eyes, it was childish to pretend to be asleep, but he did so anyway.

Jack saw through it, he heard him walk over, soon after a hand landed on his shoulder.

"remember, I'll always take care of us."

Jack let his hand linger, his fingers brushed through Lawrence's hair.

"Go to bed," he commanded his voice gravelly.

When Jack left, Lawrence pried his eyes open. His shirt stuck to his shoulders and was oddly damp and sticky. A blood red stained handprint was pressed onto his shirt from where Jack's hand had rested.

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 ******AUTHOR NOTES*******

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Heya new subscribers! Thanks for joining x love to hear from you xxx also, Sorry/Not sorry for so many agnsty chapters in a row. It wasn't originally planned to be like this, this extra flashback scene made the two timelines met up like this.

NEXT WEEK; Tim has a bad hangover/day


	15. MOVING TO A03

KEEP READING HERE - on a03 - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575

Hey guys! I'm only going to upload the rest of this story on A03 as I keep forgetting to update here and when I do it gets poor attention. The update process here is not great (IMO) and therefore you've all been reading very old versions of my chapters. I would love if you continued to read my story on A03 otherwise, its been blast! thanks for reading xx

The next TWO chapters have already been posted on a03.

And thank you to scottusa1 who has been my one fan! I love every comment you've given me to let me know you're still reading. I hope you follow onto A03. As you've been the one reason I've stayed so long on FF. xx

KEEP READING HERE - on a03 - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575

* * *

Lawrence stirred on the ground something sharp scratched against his skin. Was he lying on sandpaper? Glass? A deep groan escaped his throat as the sharp substance continued to rake at his skin.

His mind was flooded with images of Jack and Eridium. A fight they had...or was it about something else? He couldn't recall the details.

Lawrence ran a hand over his shoulders expecting to feel his holster and shirt, instead, he felt clammy, sweat coated skin. He opened his eyes and unclenched the fits he had unknowingly held tight. His knees were against his bare chest, pants were torn and covered in the irritable substance. Every movement produced jarring pain, his muscles protested as he lifted himself up onto his knees and the palms of his hands. His head hung low, still unable to crane his neck up to see where he was. His body was racked with shallow sharp breaths, and he could feel the sweat on his brow dripping down. He rested on the palms on his hands for a good minute before he could shift into a kneeling position. He stretched his head up and tried to take in the details to get a sense of where he was.

The smell hit him hard, Lawrence felt his stomach spasm, but nothing came up. He dry retched as the odour of a decaying corpse reached all his senses. He slowly tilted his head to find the source of the stench, a large figure lay face first on the floor. His body covered in dark purple crystals. Lawrence squinted trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

He demanded his legs to work, to get himself off the floor and away from the dead body but they resisted. Instead, his muscles shook feverishly, and Lawrence just hugged his bare shoulders trying to calm his protesting body. Another long minute passed before he could work his legs, he clenched his eyes shut and heaved as he pushed himself off the floor. Lawrence swayed on the spot as his body adjusted to the new position, his head in his hands unable to open his eyes. Exposing his body to another sense would be too much, but he needed to know where he was, who was lying on the floor. Slowly he made awkward shuffles forward, his nose guiding him the corpse. His feet kept getting caught up in the crystal substance below, when the stench became unbearable he opened his eyes.

It was Roland.

Lawrence let out a long curse, he was in Angel's chamber. He suddenly felt he had more control of his senses, with an aching neck he turned around to examine where he had woken up. A syringe full of a crusted crystal residue laid on the floor. The Eridium that had once pooled in the chamber had now crystalised, Lawrence swallowed down his shame. He knew full well why he was here, in his delirious state he must have sought out more Eridium. Lawrence glanced down at his bare arm, it was raw, maybe even infected. The purple crusted substance covered his skin, he must have tried to shoot up the crystals once he ran out of the liquid formula.

He wanted to scream.

Lawrence hung his head, unable to distinguish the turning in his gut from shame or withdrawals. How long had he been here? His mind struggled to recount the events, why was he here again? His eyes scanned the room and fell onto the place Angel had been resting when he found her.

Angel...Angel!

How long was it since I left her? Did I leave her enough food? Water? Eridium?

Lawrence mind lingered on the thought of Eridium if he just had some more maybe he could pull himself together. He was sure he could control it then he could get back to her. The rational part of him declared that 'he couldn't control it'. But Lawrence dismissed it. He turned a little too quickly and felt the world spin at a crude angle. Once regaining his balance, he slowly shifted through the carnage back to his loft.

Lawrence noticed he was holding something. He'd unconsciously picked up the syringe and was rolling it over his fingers.

I'll just keep it for now.

The lights in the hallway to his loft wore down on him, his body felt more exposed than before, and he bowed his head as he trudged towards the staircase. The very staircase Jack had thrown him down, the memories were shifting to the forefront of his mind. There was an empty bottle of Eridium, the one he had begged Jack to not leave behind. His shirt was on the ground as well as what he assumed was bile.

He rubbed a hand down his exposed back, feeling more bone than he should. Jack had broken it, crippled him, Lawrence's breathing turned sharp as he recalled how Jack gleefully exposed him to the Eridium. He made it to the top of the stairs and collapsed onto his knees and palms once he breached the entrance to his loft. The door was thankfully open, he didn't think he could have stood still to permit the security door to scan him. He shuffled forward, careful not to step in the broken glass that littered the floor. The edge of his vision was growing black, but he pushed on, crawling to the center of the room. He reached the island bench in the kitchen and leaned against it to push air through his lungs. He closed his eyes to let the darkness claim him and then pass. He needed energy, sugar, more Eridium, something. He couldn't go on like this.

Lawrence laid there for god knows how long, his neck was aching from his slumped shoulders and head. He might have passed out, he couldn't recall. He had absolutely no concept of time, was it hours? Days? Since he left Angel. Lawrence shifted his shoulders to get comfortable against the legs of the bench, an irritable pain shot up his arm. He'd been scratching at his flesh, the inside of his arm was raw, and blood was under his nails.

If I found some more Eridium just a little bit, I can make it back to Angel.

Lawrence pushed his back against the bench and forced his legs to heave himself up off the floor. Standing for the first time in his loft he could witness the destruction, it was totally trashed. Every draw was pulled apart along the floor, some cupboard doors had been completely ripped open, all of the stools were along the floor, some with missing legs, the screens to the balcony all smashed. The worst part, he had no recollection of ever being in his loft.

An empty pizza box and about a dozen empty beer bottles were on top of his kitchen bench, he at least knew that wasn't there before. His echo-comm was sitting next to it, with a sticky note attached.

Play me :)

Lawrence couldn't tell if it was his handwriting or Jacks, over the years they'd became one and the same. Shame wanted him to delete the recording, but his curiosity urged him to click play. He tilted his head to check he was alone, it wouldn't surprise him to find Jack hiding in a corner, watching him succumb to his games.

He held a purple stained finger down on the device and hit play.

Jacks face lit up on the screen, he was holding the device in front of him, filming himself as he walked through his loft. Between mouthfuls of pizza, he spoke with eagerness and delight.

"Tim! You're awake, good for you," Jack swung around the room, and Lawrence's kitchen spun in the background, "Now ask yourself how many times have you played this video?" Jack's smile was wide, "this may not even be the first time you've made it back to reality".

Lawrence didn't want to dig the memories forward, he was happy being ignorant. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't hit bring himself to stop the video.

"I found you in the storage supply cupboard last time, totally mess you were. Get this, you were trying to find Eridium in a mop bucket."

Lawrence gripped the echo-comm tighter.

"Real glad I refrained from killing you, this is sooooo, so, so much better! Here take a look at yourself."

The camera turned and revealed a dishevelled Lawrence curled up on his bed. He was scrunched up in amongst the sheets, shirt missing, his foot slowly rubbed his other ankle and his eyelids looked heavy. With wide pupils, the other-Lawrence stretched out a lopsided hand to reach for Jack.

"Awww look at you, sweet kitten" Jack had cooed to him.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, the camera still filming other-Lawrence's drug-induced state.

His other self, opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sloppy smile. Jack had chuckled at his slurred attempt at a greeting and ran a hand from his neck into other-Lawrence's hair. His past self only pushed his head into the touch, welcoming Jack to his side.

"You're so much better behaved like this before you were all Jack put down the gun, Jack don't do this, Jack don't do that."

One of Jacks long bronze fingers played down other-Lawrence's jaw and over the inflamed red marks across his neck from where Jack had crushed his windpipe.

"Shame, I need you back home soon, I think a few more days of bliss will sort you out," Jack's tone was soft as he continued to trace his fingers over Lawrence's neck.

Other-Lawrence's bare back was exposed to the camera, Jack examined the scars he'd endured on behalf of the CEO. Most were from assassination attempts, others from bandits and some from Jack himself.

"What happened here?" Jack's hand had lingered over the thick scar that bore into other-Lawrence's upper arm.

Lawrence held the echo-comm closer, he recognised it as the sniper wound from his trek across no-mans-land, thankfully his past self-didn't answer.

The camera jerked upwards and span around before settling down onto Lawrence's bedside table. Both of Jack's hands were free, and he wasted no time putting them both to use against the other-Lawrence.

"You know why I had to break you, don't you?" Jack wrapped a hand around Lawrence's neck.

"You misbehaved running away like that," Jack whispered low, as he leaned further down onto Lawrence's past self. Jack's head was inches from Lawrence's ear, "you understand, don't you?"

Other-Lawrence just gave a slow nod and fumbled a 'yes' before he arched his back and leaned further into Jacks touch. His past self attempted to swing an arm over Jack, but his movements were sloppy, and he only managed to pull him into a loose hug. Jack recognised the invitation and lifted himself off the bedside and lowered himself on top of Lawrence, his hands grabbed at his double's hips and held him down into the sheets. The rest of Jack's body pressed into him, despite the aggressive position Jack only planted soft kisses down Lawrence's neck. He worked slowly kissing the nape of his neck, over his collarbone and lingering over the mark made from the sniper assassination attempt. Jack pressed a love bite into the mark, and other-Lawrence pulled his hands through Jack's hair encouraging him to move closer, humming from the attention. Eventually, slow slurred words escaped him, "don't leave me here again" Lawrence mumbled.

Other-Lawrence whispered something else, and Jack had only sneered in response before pressing their lips together. Their kiss was long and passionate, Jack made an embarrassingly long moan as he grasped at Lawrence's hair. Both their breathing became shaper, cries louder, and their grasps more impatient as they pressed into one another.

Jack snapped, he threw himself up and tossed his coat over his shoulders. Lawrence tried to follow him up, but Jack held him in place.

"Stay put, Tim, you can touch all you want in a moment."

Only when Jack had discarded his layers did he permit Lawrence to move. His hands claimed every part of Jack and other-Lawrence pushed further into him. Jack was not a patient man, his hands grew more eager as they found their way under Lawrence's belt and he gave no protest, only a moan in satisfaction. He whispered again in Lawrence's ear, and Lawrence replied with a slurred, 'yes'.

Jack turned back to the camera and gave it a sly wink before he unbuckled Lawrence's belt and lowered his pants.

The present Lawrence clenched the echo-comm, and his stomach felt knotted in a dozen places. Jack had come back to toy with him and in his Eridium blissful state he'd shamefully welcomed it. He placed the echo-comm down and slid back to the ground, head bowed. He'd forgotten to hit stop on the video as now his own slurred words of pleasure called out through the device. Lawrence gritted his teeth and tried not to chew his tongue as he listened to himself be satisfied by Jack. Thankfully, it seemed Jack did not follow through with his desires, his past self grew quieter, he was most likely too far gone for anything fun to happen. Silence prevailed for a long time, and Lawrence fought the urge to be sick. Eventually, his past self spoke out again, "you're not...leaving are you?"

"Sorry Timtam, gotta head back and run a business, you know?" Jack huffed.

Lawrence begged again in protest.

Jack chuckled, "can't take you with me, I've already had to remove a dozen doctors from my service because of you. I'm not fond of having all of Helios thinking Handsome Jack has a drug problem."

"I'll be good," other-Lawrence's voice trembled as he pled to Jack and the present Lawrence felt repulsed by his tone. He could practically see Jack's smirking face as he replied, voice heavy with affection, "I'm sure you would, but it's time for me to go."

"No, please?" other-Lawrence carried on. It didn't sound like him at all; high pitched and desperate.

"Oh god," Jack had spoken in a hot and heavy sigh, "just look at you," he whispered low.

"You have no idea, how fucked you are and how fucking awesome that is," Jack's breathing was audible on the tape and Lawrence could only imagine what the man wanted to do to him further.

He wasn't sure what his past self had done next, but Jack burst out laughing.

"Stop that, now I really wish I could stay, but another time ok?"

He heard the sheets ruffle and other-Lawrence beg Jack to stay one last time before the echo-comm went silent.

Lawrence couldn't bow his head any lower, his chin rested against his chest, and the palms of his hands dug into the sockets of his eyes. Jack had got his revenge, Lawrence was weak, full of guilt and shame and worst of all Jack knew he'd enjoyed it.

He had to get out of here, now while his mind was set on freeing himself. Remaining on the floor, he reached up behind him and pulled down his echo-comm. With shaking fingers, he dialled the frequency to the comm residing in the safe house. What was he going to tell Angel? How could he face her like this? But he needed to hear her voice, something to convince himself to move out of the loft, to get away from Eridium and Jacks sick shit-show.

It only rang twice before Angel's voice burst out of the comm-speaker.

"Lawrence? Where are you?" her tone stern but tinged with concerned.

Lawrence bit down on his tongue, his chest spasmed and a soft cry left his chest he placed a hand over the microphone to prevent Angel from hearing him before he responded.

"I'm fine. I'm coming back now," Lawrence heaved with sharp breaths, he couldn't do this.

He hung up the call.

His head banged against the bench behind him, the sharp thud momentarily drew the pain away from the rest of his body. He needed a way out, he needed to go now, but his body was content with staying put.

Angel dialled back, but he didn't answer.

If there was just more Eridium, I could do this. I just need something to get me going.

After all this time he still had the syringe in his hand, but the chamber was completely empty. He wanted to throw it away, but his hand refused to move. Instead, he pocketed it into his pants. He was a mess, no shirt, pants torn and coated in crystal dust, his arms raw and covered in dark slag induced veins.

He had to go now.

He leaned against the bench as he did before and used its stable structure to push himself up. He swayed over to his bedroom, which was equally destroyed as the kitchen. The sheets on his bed were thrown to the ground, stains covered the mattress protector. Another bottle of Eridium laid on the ground, he had no clue if Jack had supplied it to him or if he'd scavenged it himself. With a few more disjointed steps he made it to his dresser, finally getting a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He looked awful. His collarbone stuck out more than usual, weight had already left his sides, his eyes were red and heavily sunken. Purple stained half his body where he had collapsed in Angel's chamber and his hair stuck out on all angles. He had tiny bruises splattered across his body, his neck was far worse it was a deep purple and green from where Jack had held him, and there were other markings he didn't want to acknowledge. He couldn't endure it any longer, so he pulled out a draw and tried to find something to hide his broken body. Gathering up clean clothes Lawrence swayed towards the bathroom. He needed a shower to rid himself of his past self.

The hot water flushed over him, purple and red pooled below him and created a marbling effect as it spiralled down the drain. His head rested against the cool black tiles, eyes closed as the pressure from the shower rained down his back. He kept finding himself rubbing at his arm and had to shake it away. He stood there trying to regain strength in his legs, he was sure if he laid down again he would never get back up. He didn't even have the energy to wash, so he waited there head bowed for the water to run the Eridium and shame off him.

Only when his skin was wrinkled, soaked through and the hot water hand run out did he emerge from the steam filled room. His clothes felt irritable against his skin.

His workstation wasn't spared from his destructive scavenging. The computer was thrown to the floor. His boots crunched down on the glass as he wandered back to the kitchen. Did he get Felicity's data? He couldn't remember, Jack had interrupted, and the details after that eluded him.

A shudder shook his spine, and he winced when he recalled the crude angle in which he had laid when it was broken.

Lawrence glanced at the wall clock, grumbled a curse when he saw the time and date signature, it had been three cycles, a full Pandoran day since he left Angel. He finally found his holster and gear chip in amongst the sheets on the ground.

He checked the pizza box before leaving, Jack had eaten everything but the crusts, typical. Lawrence took a stale piece from the leftovers and reluctantly made his way to the fast station. He'd never let anyone else, but Jack see him in this state. His arm throbbed as he slowly set the coordinates to make his way back to Angel.

He just hoped he could get through this.

Lawrence was drenched in sweat, and he struggled to pull the layers off over his head. Angel had pressed him with question after question as he walked (stumbled) back into the safe house. He discarded his holster onto the desk, without any concern for Angel seeing his bare chest his shirt followed suit.

Angel's insistent questioning continued as he flopped down onto the cot. She could take the floor, he honestly didn't give a fuck, he needed the bed.

"What happened?" She pressed again.

"It's fine," was all he could manage as he buried his face into the pillow.

"You were gone for three cycles," she replied flatly. Lawrence was sure if he turned to face her she would have her arms crossed, and be wearing an expression reminiscent of his mother.

"Its fine, it's all ok, ok?" He grumbled into the sheets, eyes tightly shut as his body shook with the oncoming fever.

"Tim! Tell me what happened," Angel implored.

"Wh-what? How do you know that name?" Lawrence jerked his head up from the confines of the pillow. Angel did indeed have her arms crossed, and she did look disappointed.

When she didn't reply Lawrence snapped, "whatever, don't call me that," and he returned to drowning himself amongst the sheets.

"Did you see Jack?"

"Arhhhh Angel, dammit, leave me be," Lawrence groaned.

Angel huffed and stepped away from the cot.

Thank fuck, Lawrence cried internally. His fists were clenched tight, and his stomach felt like spewing bile all over the cot. The withdrawals were going to hit hard, Lawrence knew he wasn't equipped to deal with this. He could only hope Angel was.

By the end of the cycle, Lawrence still hadn't addressed any of her questions. He'd only turned and groaned in the cot. She didn't need to raise a hand to his head to know he was wrecked with a fever. She tried to press him to drink water, to get fresh air, but her efforts only got curses in return. He even told her to 'fuck off'. Jack never swore, and rarely snapped at her in such a manner.

She considered letting Nyx or Crake talk some sense into him, but honestly, she couldn't stand the thought of the container being filled with the voices of three Jacks. Instead, she busied herself with Felicity. Whilst Lawrence had been indisposed at the Bunker she'd gone and restored Felicity's circuits. The bot was active again, Angel conveyed her frustration about Lawrence, and she replied with a high pitched beep that could only mean she agreed. Her next mission was sorting through the code Lawrence had recovered. Hopefully, she could put her back together.

Her Dad's double didn't even notice when she snatched his echo-comm to retrieve the code. He was borderline delirious, the sheets were drenched, and his breathing was ragged. She could have sworn he'd mumbled Jack's name, the very thought that he wanted Jack made her face screw up. She bit her tongue and resisted the urge to dump a glass of cold water on to him.

Whatever transpired at the Bunker Angel believed it was better she didn't know. Yet, there was a video on his echo-comm, the time stamp revealed it was taken while he was absent. Angel debated for some time whether to click play. Eventually, her curiosity overwhelmed her. She needed to know.

Clicking play, she watched on as Jack had filmed himself, indulging in pizza and dancing around the room. When he asked Lawrence (who he called Tim) to take a look at himself she froze. Her tiny heart fidgeted in her chest as the camera turned to land on Lawrence. There he was, disoriented on the bed, shirtless, and barely coherent. He'd smiled at Jack, beckoned him to come over.

Angel stopped the video, she didn't need to see this. She didn't want to know.

She looked over at the Lawrence present in the container. He was shaking violently among the sheets, his face buried in the pillow. But she could still make out the green and purple marks on his neck.

Sighing, Angel accepted that it was late in the cycle. She'd already resigned to the fact she'd be taking the floor tonight. She would almost feel sorry for him if he hadn't been so rude. Despite his cruelty, Jack was at least polite towards her, even gentle when he wanted something. Lawrence, however, acted like he was raised in a barn.

She lifted herself up and bid Felicity goodnight, who gave a low hum in return. Angel prayed for a dreamless sleep, and one uninterrupted by Lawrence's restlessness. She bitterly thought of the cardboard mattress she'd be sleeping on as she gathered up a coat to shape into a pillow. Sleep truly wanted to claim her, as she didn't wake when Lawrence climbed past her. Only when the container door swung open did she stir. Felicity frantically beeped, and Angel threw herself up. The silhouette of Lawrence stumbled outside.

"Lawrence!"

Angel crawled under Felicity and made her way outside, the Pandora sun was breaking. Basking the highlands in a beautiful red glow. She couldn't recall the last time she watched a sunrise, a real sunrise too. One that wasn't through a holo-screen. Best of all, Pandora sunrises lasted hours. Angel wished she could have enjoyed the moment, but Lawrence was content on ruining it with his dry retching. He was curled forward, on his hands and knees as he coughed. Angel hadn't noticed his arms before, he'd wrapped himself up so quickly in the sheets that she didn't have a chance to assess his condition. Not that Lawrence would let her. The veins on his arms were a dark purple, they ran all the way up and protruded on his neck.

Slag, she bitterly thought.

She cautiously stepped towards him, he caught sight of her approaching shadow and let out a long groan as he realised she was behind him. When she kneeled down beside him, she could feel the heat radiate from his back. Scars were littered between the slag infested veins on his arms. His back was bruised and white lines, older fainter scars ran down his spine. As if someone had whipped or scratched the skin raw. They looked so old as if he'd received them when he was a teenager or younger.

When she gently rubbed his shoulders, he flinched, but he kept his head bowed between his arms.

"Go back to bed," he croaked.

Lawrence eventually heaved his head up and glanced over at her. He was ghastly pale, his eyes red, and bile was attempting to escape him. Lawrence hurled forward again, shivering violently despite the Pandora sun warming the cliffside.

"Leave," he groaned.

Angel kept a hand on him, a part of her wanted to comfort him, hug him and tell him he'd be ok. But these feelings only came from the memory of her Dad, her real Dad, and that person was long gone. Lawrence only resembled John in appearance, everything else about him was tainted with Jack. John, the one who had read to her and held her was a man she could barely remember. She only had a few brief recollections of him, but she clung to them desperately. They were few and far between after her mother died. Slowly, John became Jack, and with that transition, her real Dad died.

"Angel," Lawrence heaved, his breathing was shallow, "where is your Eridium?"

He was doing a poor job at keeping his voice casual. He masked his face in his arms, yet, his tone was enough to reveal his play.

"It's all gone," she lied.

"There was still enough for another day," Lawrence choked as he coughed again.

His demeanour was relaxed under her hand, yet Angel had spent years with Jack. She knew when a storm was brewing and one hell of a storm was on its way.

"I'm sorry, its all gone."

And just like Jack, the storm broke. His tone turned dangerously sharp, "don't lie to me."

Lawrence drew his head up, and their mix-matched eyes stared back at one another. He was worse for wear than Angel previously thought, Yet, she held her position, if he tried anything she could always retake his sight. And, after what he pulled with Felicity, she wouldn't hold back either.

"You can't have it," she said calmly.

"What?" He hissed, his voice barely audible.

Angel swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing, "when Jack arrived at the Bunker you tried to hang up the call. I deliberately kept the line open."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes, she felt the muscles on his back recoil. Angel retracted her hand as he leaned off the gravel and rested on his knees.

"You spied on us?"

"Only to make sure you were ok!"

"I heard how Jack...hurt you, how he gave you Eridium to heal-.

"Angel, you're treading a mighty thin line," Lawrence cut her off, his voice dangerously low.

"You've had Eridium treatments in the past, haven't you?"

"Shut your damn mouth."

At that moment Lawrence resembled Jack in such a way that she could no longer tell them apart. His shoulders were rolled back, eyes sharp and his lips curled up into a snarl. With the scar on his face, he looked monstrous.

"Your body is severely addicted to the substance. You're just going through withdrawals. You can fight this."

"You're a Siren, Eridium is different for you. You have no idea what it's like," Lawrence spat.

Although they were both on the ground, he still towered over her. Yet, Angel wouldn't let him intimidate her. She wouldn't let Jack beat her, not again, not ever.

"Give it to me," he moved towards her.

"Lawrence, Listen to yourself! You don't want this. Jack wins if you give in," Angel implored, she hoped he would see reason.

He gave a bark of laughter that caused her spine to shudder in terror. At that moment, he might as well have been Jack.

"Jack already won, when he did this!" Lawrence roared as he pointed to the scar on his face.

The clamour in his voice caused her to fall back on her hands. Her palms scraped against the uneven ground. Vivid images of Jack, her chamber and chair swam to the forefront of her mind, despite her aversion, she kept herself upright. She could beat this.

"Tim, please," Angel hoped using his other name might pull him out of his Jack like trance, but it only seemed to fuel his hatred.

"I told you not to use that name," he hissed, "that person doesn't exist anymore."

"He doesn't have to! You can bring that person back. Stop letting Jack beat you."

Lawrence ignored all her words, he began to pull himself to his feet. His figure towering over her as she crawled back on the ground. His form blocked out the rising sun, removing the only peaceful element from the scenery.

"Jack saw to that when he burnt this into my face. Do you know what scorched flesh smells like? What molten iron feels like on your skin? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA!?"

This was the most she'd heard him speak since she came out of her own Eridium addiction. If he needed a verbal punching bag, then she'd submit. However, she wasn't going to let him succumb to the drug that he so desperately wanted.

"He may have used you, kept you captive, but he destroyed me!" he spat. "THERE IS NOTHING LEFT BUT HIM! You have no idea what he's capable of."

Angel knew more than Lawrence gave her credit, yet she kept quiet.

"Now give me the damn Eridium, Angel." Lawrence shook with a fury she'd only ever seen the likes of on Jack.

"The Eridium is with Felicity, I've asked her to digitise it away and store it. You can't get it. No matter what you do," Angel replied, burying the fear that threatened to boil over.

Something flashed across his eyes, a wild glint. Angel had seen it before. She seized dirt in hands, ready to throw it in his face if he dared to move any closer.

"I'm only going to ask you once more," he snarled.

He wasn't going to quit, Angel realised. This had carried on for too long. She shoved her hand into her pocket and activated the watch.

Nyx and Crake burst forward.

Their blue and red forms lit up the surrounding area. Pandora's rising sun made Crake shine a brilliant red. Nyx's form was diluted. Angel gave out a yelp of surprise as Crake stormed forward, his red frame shielding her from Lawrence. Meanwhile, Nyx instantly retreated behind her.

Crake bent his knees and kept his stance wide, "stand down Lawrence."

Angel had expected Nyx to come to her aid, as she'd barely said a word to this 'Crake'. Yet, the blue Jack appeared very content lingering to the sidelines. He rubbed his arms and gave worried looks between Crake and Lawrence.

"Get out of the way" Lawrence growled back.

Alarm simmered away, clawing at her chest at the realisation. Lawrence could - as he just did - tell the AI's to stand down. Yet, Crake shook his head and ordered Lawrence to back away. Angel's mouth hung open, Crake just disobeyed a direct order.

What kind of AI were they?

"Crake, this is killing me," Lawrence heaved.

"I know, but you'll only make it worse," there was actual sympathy in his words. Something Angel hadn't heard in Jack's voice in a very long time.

"Nyx, don't even think about it!" Crake snapped and leered over his shoulder.

Angel spun around to see Nyx rubbing his arms nervously, his eyes darting to the watch and then back to Lawrence. Had he just considered returning to the watch? Nyx stared down at her with an apologetic look.

"Get her inside," Crake called as he glanced down at Angel on the ground.

"R-right" Nyx almost stammered.

Nyx lowered himself to Angel's level, "let's go and leave the two boys to fight over who has the bigger balls, ok?"

Nyx rested his digital hands under her and tried to help her up, it was pointless as he barely had any mass, but the gesture was there. Lawrence threw a glare towards her as she trailed back to the container door. But his gaze had lost that wild glint, he looked defeated, his shoulders weighed him down, he was ready to collapse. Yet, when the container door shut separating them, Lawrence burst out cursing. Words so vile Angel felt a little sick just from hearing them.

Nyx's eyes were fixed on the door as were hers. The two of them huddled on the cot, and he kept a digital hand on her shoulder. With the door securely shut in front of them, Nyx seemed to regain some confidence.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

It took a moment for Angel to work out Crake was the one yelling.

"Going back to the Bunker? Of course, this would happen, you absolute fool."

"OH, FUCK OFF CRAKE!" Lawrence snapped.

Angel felt Nyx's hand twitch, and static ran up her spine

"Fucking useless. What would you have done? Kill Jack?"

"Maybe. I sure as shit wouldn't be willing to roll over and submit to him like a damn dog."

"SHUT IT!"

It sounded like Lawrence had lunged forward as something hit the container door. Felicity gave a worried beep at the sound of the impact.

"You need to pull yourself together real quick. Or things will end up like last time," Crake warned.

"I've already read my death certificate. Twice now, I don't need reminding."

"Seems like you do. What happens to us, the girl? If you die."

"When I die," Lawrence corrected.

Angel threw a worried glance at Nyx, but his expression revealed no answers.

Crake growled something in reply but Angel couldn't catch what was said. She wanted to get up and press her ear to the container door, but reason told her to stay put. Nyx fidgeted as his gaze too remained planted on the door. She made note how unsettled the blue Jack looked.

Crake and Lawrence continued the conversation at low growls, occasionally a curse was yelled, but most of the discussion remained private. Nyx didn't return to the watch, and Angel found herself relieved at that. He may look like Jack, but his demeanour did not put her on edge the way Lawrence and Crake would. The two of them launched anxious glances at each other as they sat in silence. .

* * *

KEEP READING HERE - on a03 - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575

Hey guys! I'm only going to upload the rest of this story on A03 as I keep forgetting to update here and when I do it gets poor attention. The update process here is not great (IMO) and therefore you've all been reading very old versions of my chapters. I would love if you continued to read my story on A03 otherwise, its been blast! thanks for reading xx

The next TWO chapters have already been posted on a03.

And thank you to scottusa1 who has been my one fan! I love every comment you've given me to let me know you're still reading. I hope you follow onto A03. As you've been the one reason I've stayed so long on FF. xx

KEEP READING HERE - on a03 - /works/12897621/chapters/29464575


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